


Back to Gravity Falls: Beware the Beast

by deathbyinsomnia



Series: The Mystery Kids Multiverse [1]
Category: Coraline (2009), Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics), ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Absent Parents, Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Crossover, F/M, Fluff, Folklore, Gen, M/M, Multi, Multiverse, Mystery, Native American/First Nations Legends & Lore, Parapines, Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Thriller, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 63,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbyinsomnia/pseuds/deathbyinsomnia
Summary: It's been four years since Mabel and Dipper have been to Gravity Falls after the fall of Bill Cipher. This time, though, the threat is one unafraid of the mountain of corpses it leaves in its wake. The gang must prepare for a civil war of godly proportion.
Relationships: Coraline Jones & Wybie Lovat, Coraline Jones/Wybie Lovat, Norman Babcock & Dipper Pines, Norman Babcock/Dipper Pines
Series: The Mystery Kids Multiverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198670
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. In Fair California, Where We Lay Our Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title: In Fair California, Where We Lay Our Scene

Dipper sat at his computer desk with a pencil in his mouth, chewing on the eraser. He'd written the list for all he needed for summer vacation in Gravity Falls. In fact, he'd written the list a dozen times already. After each one, he felt dissatisfied and would throw it away. His trash bin was filled to the brim with a final paper ball when Mabel strode into the room, all smiles.

"Dipper! Stop writing the list and pack, already! We leave tomorrow!" She grinned, flopping stomach-first onto his bed. "I'm glad we finally get to go back. Between the whole coming back, Gruncle Ford reappearing, and summer homework thing, we haven't had any time to go back these past summers."

Dipper nodded absently, grunting to himself then wadding up the paper he was writing on and throwing it into the waste basket. The paper bounced off and landed halfway across the room. Dipper sighed.

He's stayed in fairly constant contact with his friends in Gravity Falls, but with the spotty internet there, skyping was far from an option on their end. He'd gotten pretty close (sort of?) with Robbie over the years, seeing as he now understood why he acted the way he did. Teen angst and all that. Wendy and Soos were still close with him too, but other than them and the occasional letter from his Gruncles, he didn't have any people close to him or that talked to him. Minus his twin sister, _she doesn't count,_ he told himself.

Mabel frowned. She still was not entirely used to the feeling of her braces being off even though it had already been two weeks since their removal. She licked across her teeth, half-expecting metal brackets. "Why are you not excited right now, Dipper? We get to see Gruncle Stan and Gruncle Ford and our friends but you are so down in the dumpy-dumps."

Dipper exhaled sharply, "That's just _it_ , Mabel. They are my friends, but they're my _only_ friends."

"Dipper..."

"When we started high school, I thought things would be different. That _we_ would be different, but here we are- exactly the same. I stay up all night studying for tests, you listen to music and don't even study. You get better grades than me. You make friends, and I stay the loner loser who doodles like an idiot in the front of my classes."

Mabel's tone turned sympathetic, "Dipper..." She stayed quiet for several seconds before leaning forward to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and setting her head on his shoulder. "I get that it's hard, believe me, but not everyone is like you, Dip. No one could really understand all we went through, that's why it's easier to avoid the topic. Plus," she smiled, trying to cheer him up. "If anyone here found out about us saving the universe, there would be so much paparazzi following us around that we'd have to spend all our fortune on disguises."

Dipper smiled a little, appreciatively. "We'd have to dress Waddles up too."

"You're right!" Mabel's eyes grew wide and excited, listing off possible disguises for Waddles, her pet pig.

Dipper started writing another list, a remark to his sister's antics here and there, but overall feeling a little better. Reaching the end of the list, he realized he had pretty much everything he needed for the trip except for a clean journal. Since his days in Gravity Falls, he documented his life thoroughly through journals on the off-chance they may be helpful someday. Especially if, in his aging years, he would begin to forget the life that meant so much to him. He doubted it, but he still liked the thought of writing it all down. Maybe he'd be famous, and the journals would become best-sellers, he reasoned.

"Hey, Mabel?" Dipper asked, his sister stopping her train of thought and focusing on Dipper.

"Yeah, Dippy Fresh?"

"Oh god, spare me," Dipper laughed. "Don't remind me of that nightmare. I'm gonna head down to the book store and get a new journal for the summer. Want to come along?"

Mabel shook her head, "I am finishing the sweaters I'm knitting for our friends when we get back there. Do you want one, Dipper?"

Dipper nodded, "If it's not too much trouble. Can you make one with the pine tree on it? Like the hat I gave to Wendy?"

Mabel grinned, "You know that I can knit faster than anyone you know! I can knit a sweater in 3 hours! Besides, I thought you were over her."

"I just really loved that hat," he smiles, pulling a duffel bag from his closet.

"I remember," she laughed. "But you never wore Wendy's after we got back to California."

"Well, it's California, and hot all the time. It's a fur-lined hat, Mabel." Dipper pointed out, rolling up each individual shirt and pair of pants to fit more in the bag.

"Touché. Are you walking to the book store?"

"Yep."

"Well, make sure you tell Slappy I said hi."

"I am not telling the Puppet Burger mascot you said hi, that thing gives me the creeps."

"Fine, Dipper." Mabel pouted, "Well, off I go. You should leave soon if you want to get there before they close."

Dipper checked his Bigfoot watch and stopped packing immediately, grabbing his wallet and red baseball cap.

"Thanks, Mabel. Be back in an hour!"

"You better! We have to be at the bus station by 9 am and it is an hour's walk to the bus station! Mom and Dad can't drive us so we have to walk!" She yelled behind him, grinning.

Mabel returned to her room, getting out a large ball of blue yarn and a smaller ball of white yarn to start on Dipper's sweater.

_..._

Dipper made his way to the bookstore and greeted the man behind the desk like he always did when he came in. He followed his familiar path to the back of the store, where he heard someone talking in a one-sided conversation.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Freida. I don't know anyone here, I _just_ moved here. How would I know where you're buri-"

Dipper came into the boy's view and his eyes flew wide. The boy pretended he had just snapped his phone shut.

"Sorry, forgot about the no talking thing." the boy muttered.

The teen's hair spiked wildly off his head, ears large and dark circles under his eyes. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, the red material stamped with the face of a zombie wearing off from the thread.

"That's libraries, not so much in book stores. Mostly because you're buying something, different environment."

"Wait, do you go to the high school a couple blocks over?" The boy asked.

"Yeah, my name is-"

"Dipper, right? That's what everyone calls you."

"Everyone?"

"Well, the teacher when they call your name."

"You just moved here last month, right?"

"Yeah. I'm Norman."

There was a short silence between them as Dipper looked through the shelves to find a leather-bound journal similar to his other ones. He usually had to get a new journal at the turn of every season, so the owner noticed the pattern and tended to make sure at least one was always stocked during that time. He used what little allowance he had every month to pay for said journals.

Norman watched Dipper curiously, it had been very obvious that Norman had been more or less talking to the air (in the form of a spirit named Freida who wanted to be properly buried but didn't know exactly where she was stashed), and yet Dipper pretended like he hadn't heard anything.

"So, Dipper," Norman started, trying to find something to start a conversation. He had noticed Dipper was a bit of a loner, like himself, so he figured they may somehow bond over that. "Why are you back here? No one ever really comes back here except me."

"You come here often?" Dipper asked idly, finally finding a leather-bound journal and opening it to make sure it was the right one. That one had the wrong page color, he liked cream pages instead of white. Mabel thought his page color preference was dumb, but Dipper didn't care too much about his quirks.

"Every day, except Sunday- since it's closed on Sundays. You seem to know what you're looking for. A, uh," Norman glanced over, "leather journal? What's it for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Just to write in, I guess, talk about my day." Dipper answers, looking over at the boy a few inches shorter than him (if you ignored the height of his hair).

"That's cool. I come here to read."

"Read what?" Dipper asked, interested, finding the correct journal and holding it against his hip.

"Zombie stories mostly, sometimes old penny dreadfuls if I can find them."

Dipper saw a spark of excitement in Norman's eyes at the question. He saw Norman around, he was in almost all of his classes. Except Dipper took creative writing and Norman took... something. Dipper figured they had hit it off enough he could ask without seeming desperate to talk, he was just curious.

"You're in all but one of my classes. I take creative writing that period, what do you take?"

"Amateur film-making," Norman smiled, looking a bit sheepish. "I wanna be a director."

"That's cool that you know what you want to do. I don't really know what I want to do. Something in research, maybe."

"Well I heard there's a folklore and mythology major at Harvard, is that something you'd be into?" Norman asked, he was trying to gauge how possible it was to be able to talk with Dipper. The guy seemed easy-going enough, and gave off a vibe of maturity, so Norman thought this inkling may be a hint as to whether or not they could find some common ground.

Dipper grinned, "Really? That's a thing? That sounds amazing."

"If I was smart enough to get into Harvard it would be an awesome thing to do, if I was a bit less into film, that is." Norman laughed awkwardly.

Dipper smiled, "I should go pay for this before they close. Maybe I'll see you around?"

Norman's heart sank a little, he hoped they could talk more. "Yeah, sure."

"If you see me, make sure to pull me aside, okay? You seem really cool to talk to."

"It won't be during the summer, if anything," Norman admitted, smiling. "I'm going to my cousins' house for the summer, gonna stay with him."

"I'll be out of town too. I'll be hanging with my great uncles and some friends around there."

"See you when the new school year starts then?" Norman offered.

"Yeah," Dipper beamed, "if we have any classes together we should share a table. Plus, there's always lunch."

"Okay, see ya, Dipper."

"See ya... Norm? Or do you prefer Norman?"

"Whichever is fine," Norman shrugged, waving once before making his way out of the book store.

Dipper took his wallet from his front jeans pocket and walked to the desk to pay for his journal. The man smiled politely, waving as Dipper left.

_...A Passing of Time..._

Once Dipper got home, he set his keys on the hook in the kitchen.

"Mom? Dad?" Dipper called, then noticing a note on the counter, he picked it up and read it aloud. "Dad has to work late tonight and I have to go to a charity function for work. There's money on the counter if you want to grab food. If not, split it between the two of you and keep it. I'm sorry, kids. Maybe we can have family dinner when you get back."

Dipper picked up the two twenty dollar bills from the counter, glancing at the clock on the wall. 7 pm. He'd been gone two hours rather than one. "And buy what? Dinner at the Olive Garden? Gees," he muttered, shoving the money in his pocket. "Maybe Mabel will want take-out."

Dipper opened Mabel's bedroom door to find her asleep on her bed, a finished sweater curled in her arms. Dipper smiled, "You work too hard. You didn't have to rush so fast." He pulled a fleece blanket from her closet and stretched it across her body.

Slinking his way through the door, leaving her door open, he made his way down the stairs quietly. Going into the kitchen, he opened the fridge, then the pantry and sighed.

"Looks like we have to work with what we have. It wouldn't be smart to go out for groceries at this time of night when mom and dad took their cars." Dipper muttered to himself, settling on making whatever he could manage.

_...A Passing of Time..._

Mabel woke up with the smell of food cooking downstairs, and yawned as she sat at the table in the kitchen. "Mom and dad out again?" she asked.

Dipper nodded, "Sorry, I came home too late to get groceries. I have to work with what we have, sis. I hope it's okay."

"You cook pretty good without many options, Dip. It'll be fine," she yawned again, smiling. "Did you see your sweater?"

"It's great," Dipper grinned, "thank you."

"No, thank you." Mabel insisted, her voice getting a little more bored. "Why are they gone this time?"

"Mom's at a charity function, dad's at work."

"Did they say what for?"

"There was a note. It's on the counter if you want to read it." Dipper responded, pouring the noodles from the pan into a colander.

"Oh." Mabel muttered, not bothering to read the familiar wording of every note they received.

"Anyway, I met this guy at the book store. We talked a bit, which is why I ran late." Dipper noted, trying to veer away from the topic of their parents.

He grabbed a potato, ran it under the tap in the sink, and began peeling it carefully, trying to remember all the bits and pieces of cooking tips he's heard and observed over the years. He finished the potato and started to chop the potato into small chunks, then once he finished he started on another potato.

"Mabel, can you open two cans of chicken, a can of green beans, and a can of corn from the pantry?"

Mabel nodded, getting the cans and using the can opener on them, "What's on the menu, Chef Dipper?"

"Not entirely sure yet," Dipper admitted with a laugh. "Kinda following my gut here. Can you grab all the meat sauces from the pantry and fridge? Like A1, that beef flavoring sauce, those kinds of things."

"On... chicken?" Mabel sounded hesitant.

"And get some lemon juice too."

"Okay," Mabel laughed, "I'll follow Chef's orders."

Once all the cans were opened, and she brought the sauces and lemon juice to him, he smiled. "Perfect. Mind draining the cans?"

Mabel smiled, she loved when her brother got happy like this. Nowadays, it always seemed like he'd put on a brave face. Now he genuinely looked content. "Of course, lovely twin of mine!"

Once everything was done, Mabel stood behind Dipper to watch what he'd do. He took ramen noodles from the colander and put them in a large bowl and added the chicken to it, putting lemon juice and sauces here and there. He put the two chicken-flavored spice packets back in the pantry for Mabel to add extra flavor to hers in the future.

Then, he poured the potato cubes, green beans, and corn all in one bowl and added butter, salt, and pepper to the bowl and put it in the microwave. After everything in that melted, he mixed everything around in the separate bowls and set them both on the counter closest to Mabel's chair at the table.

"This should cover enough food groups," Dipper laughed.

Mabel's mouth watered as she jumped up, "Man that looks great, Dipper! Let's split it in half and dig in!"

Dipper smiled, grabbing glass plates and handing one of them to Mabel as he watched her spoon half of each bowl onto her plate. He genuinely loved his sister, especially in moments like these. They sat across from each other at the table, and a pleasant silence settled as they ate.

"Hey, Mabel?"

"Mhm?" Mabel answered, her mouth full.

"When did mom and dad stop?"

"Stop what, Dipper?" Mabel asked, a bit taken aback.

"Stop being our parents. Was it just one morning they stopped being there for us, or did it happen over time? Because, honestly, I can't remember." Dipper muttered bitterly, setting down his fork.

"Dipper, that doesn't really matter right now. We can take care of ourselves as long as they pay bills. Be grateful they don't make us pay for everything or get jobs yet, as some parents do." Mabel offered, sighing. "I know you're mad because they haven't been around like they should lately. I get it, Dip, but... they're trying."

Dipper looked at his sister and sighed. Even if his parents weren't trying to be there for them, he thought, Mabel was right about not being forced to pay for anything. He picked his fork up and went back to eating. They ate the rest of dinner in silence.

_**~~~A Change In Perspective~~~** _

Norman checked his watch as he walked home in the dark. 8 pm. He flipped open his phone and called his dad's cell phone. After no one answered, the answering machine picked up the call. "I'm on the way home now, hope you guys are having fun in Toronto. I'll call you guys before I leave tomorrow. Bye."

The thought of the empty house at the end of the street made him deflate. His sister would be coming home from college all summer to watch the house while he was more or less agreeing to be shipped off so Courtney could be alone and not have to watch her little brother. It was unfair how highly they thought of Courtney, Norman argued, she may have been 'normal' but he could not control his gift.

A ghost of a pitbull trotted up beside him, a gash in his neck, and Norman sighed mournfully. "Poor dog." He petted the dog as it walked beside him, then watched it go its own way once Norman reached his own yard.

Opening up the door, he took off his sneakers and carried them in his hands. Opening his bedroom door, he took a look around. It didn't look that much different from his old room. This one, however, did have a noticeable difference. It was much smaller.

_**... Flashback Time ...** _

"Houses in California are expensive," his dad explained on the day they were driving the U-Haul to the new house, "because you aren't paying for the houses. You're paying for the beach 10 miles away. In our old neighborhood, you could buy a house twice this size for the same amount."

"So why didn't we?" Norman asked, bothered he had to leave his only friends behind.

"Because your sister wants to go to college in California and family sticks together."

"You should make her pay for her own college," Norman huffed under his breath.

"After all we've gone through over the years, you'd think you'd get it by now. Family sticks together."

_**... Present Time ...** _

"You'd think," Norman said mockingly to himself. "But I doubt you'd do the same for me."

Grabbing a bag of chips he'd left on his side table, he picked up his sketchbook and composition notebook and went back to working on concept sketches, camera angles, and a script he'd been working on. The alarm on his digital clock already set, prepared to wake him up in the morning. Eventually, he falls asleep against the wall, notebooks in his lap and pencil in hand.


	2. The Dangling Conversation (and Metaphorical Ice-Breaking)

The morning came none too quickly, the Pines twins taking their luggage (and themselves) to the bus stop. (After quickly checking on Waddles at the pet housing clinic, and Mabel promising to send Waddles postcards.) They got their tickets, the ticket guy pointing with a smile to a bus outside.

"You kids can go on ahead onto the bus, that bus isn't expected to have many passengers so it plans to leave a bit sooner than scheduled. Especially since the tickets have to be reserved beforehand to figure out what size bus to use."

Mabel smiled, "Thanks, Mr. Ticket Guy."

"You're welcome," the guy laughed, pointing again to the shortest bus in the lot outside.

The twins got on the bus, no one else seemingly aboard yet. Dipper set down his bag and walked to the driver who was staring blankly ahead.

"Sir? Where should we put our bags?" Dipper asked cordially.

The guy waved his hand in dismissal, "Keep 'em. There's only 5 people on this bus anyway."

"5?" Dipper asked, "The last time we came it was only us."

"Maybe it's gotten more popular. Maybe Gravity Falls got a theme park." The guy quipped, laughing at his own joke.

"Oh... kay." Dipper muttered, getting to the back of the bus with Mabel.

"We can keep our stuff. There'll be 5 people on the bus this time."

"5?" Mabel asked, "I wonder why."

"You could always ask," Dipper joked.

"I will!" Mabel grinned defiantly.

"Oh, god." Dipper laughed to himself.

_**... A Passing of Time ...** _

Twenty minutes later, two kids who looked to be a bit younger than them came onto the bus. A boy with copper-brown skin, wild hair, and a noticeable slouch followed by a girl with bluish-black colored hair and a straight posture. The boy had on a long trench coat and heavy boots with fingerless gloves, the girl with a dark blue t-shirt and shorts with laced calf-boots on that looked pretty decent for hiking. They talked in hushed tones, the boy looking excited and the girl irritated.

"Hi!" Mabel yelled, making them both jump. "I'm Mabel! We're going to Gravity Falls too! What are you guys going for?"

"I'm Wybie, this is Coraline," the tan boy grinned, leaning out from the aisle seat. "Coraline is moving in with my grandma and I for a while, so I came to get her so she wouldn't have to ride the bus there alone. Her parents flew me out here."

"That explains why you don't have a big bag," Dipper commented. Dipper's eyes wandered to the bag that Coraline had set in the seat behind her, stuffed to the brim but still very small if it really had all of her things she owned in it.

"Yeah," Wybie muttered, "My grandma and I are living nearby relatives on my mom's side. If you guys see us, you should come hang with us."

"Absolutely!" Mabel yelled excitedly, "Coraline? Have you ever been to Gravity Falls before?"

Coraline shook her head, "No, but Wybie has lived there for a few months now."

"I think it's hiding something," Wybie grins, wiggling his fingers. "Something _spooky_."

Mabel and Dipper give each other a concealed look of amusement, Mabel turning to face him. "You have no idea."

"Last call for Gravity Falls!" Someone calls over the loud speaker inside the bus station.

Norman stumbles up the stairs, tripping and falling face-first. Once he lets out a quiet 'ouch', he hands his ticket to the driver and turns to the rest of the bus. Norman's eyes widen.

"Dipper?"

"Norman?"

"Well, this is awkward." The bus driver interjected, a poor attempt at a joke. "Anyway, get seated. We have to go now if we want to make it there before nightfall."

Norman sat in front of the bus, setting down his backpack and turning in his seat to face everyone. The driver started up the bus and pulled out of the lot, checking his watch before leaving through the exit gate.

"So, did I miss awkward introductions?" Norman asked with a nervous smile, eyes focused on Dipper and Mabel.

"Yeah, kinda." Wybie blurted. Coraline hit him on the arm in scolding.

"Hush, you. This is Wyborn, but everyone calls him Wybie." Coraline introduced, then pointing to herself. "I'm Coraline."

"Wyborn? Sounds Nordic." Norman commented, looking at the boy slouching in his chair.

Wybie smiled up at him, "It may be, I heard it means War Bear. Which, honestly, sounds strange to me."

"It's cool, though."

"Thanks."

Dipper moved to sit on his feet so he sat a little higher, "Norman, this is my twin sister Mabel."

"You're cute," Mabel blurted, unashamed.

Norman's face turned red, his pale skin making his blush extremely obvious, Norman pretended to scratch his face with his fingernail to hide his face. "T-thanks, I guess."

"She doesn't mean anything by it Norman, she just tends to not use the filter between her mouth and her brain."

"Well, you're not wrong." Mabel admitted, laughing at herself.

Coraline nudged Wybie in the side, "You seem to have the same problem, stalker-boy."

Wybie smiled in a wobbly, endeared way and curled himself against Coraline's side, his hug so tight that his face buried in her hair due to his slouch.

Coraline smiled sweetly with a whisper, rolling her eyes, "Wuss-puss."

"Should we leave you two alone?" Dipper joked clearing his throat, as he watched the couple with a mirth-drenched expression.

"You guys are so cute," Mabel cooed. "How long have you guys been together?"

"We met 3 years ago, when we were 11," Wybie muttered from where his face was buried in Coraline's hair. "I begged her last year until she relented. Took 2 weeks but I broke her."

Coraline laughed a little, "It was weird at first. I mean, I am not really a romantic person, but Wybie doesn't mind too much."

"Nope," Wybie agreed, "I'm more just overly affectionate than romantic. I mean, our first date was to find this poet guy's grave in the local cemetery."

"I ended up falling into a sinkhole," Coraline interjected, "broke my ankle. He drove me on his dirt bike all the way back to the apartments so his grandma could drive me to the hospital."

"Well, it could be worse," Norman added, "a zombie could've risen from the dead and chased you down."

"Aren't zombies slow, though?" Coraline asked, not entirely dismissing it as a joke like most people would have. The response came to Norman as a surprise.

"More or less. I mean, I guess there's levels of slow depending on injuries or degeneration of body tissue." Dipper interjected, looking to Norman for approval. "Right?"

Norman nodded absently, thinking to himself, _did Dipper actually believe in zombies or is he saying that because that's what movies usually say about zombies_?

There was a long silence for a while, everyone looking at each other every few seconds. Mabel broke the silence first. "Hey, guys. We should all get some sleep. It may be late before we get there, and if so, we should all be rested up."

Everyone gave absent-minded nods.

"I'll wake you guys up at every other town so we can go to the bathroom and stretch our legs, and fill up gas if the need arises." The bus driver announced. Everyone gave affirmative phrases in return.

It was going to be a long drive.

**_.... A Passing of Time ..._ **

A while later, the man woke up Coraline and Norman before making his way off the bus and into the info building. Coraline woke up fully first, shaking Wybie gently. He woke up, slowly, and took Coraline's hand once they got off the bus.

Norman woke up fully, putting out his hand and tapping Mabel and Dipper on the shoulder. Dipper woke with a start, almost falling into the aisle. Norman laughed, walking down the aisle and off the bus. Dipper and Mabel followed shortly after. 20 minutes later, everyone stood around the kiosk waiting on the bus driver to return with bladders empty and gas station bags filled with road snacks and drinks.

"So..." Mabel started, directing her eyes toward Coraline. The boys all in a corner looking at strange souvenirs. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you going to live with Wybie?"

Coraline sighed morosely, "Well, the short of it is that my parents don't really have the time or money or ability to raise me lovingly anymore. I already talked to his grandma about living there months ago. Wybie doesn't really get that it's not a temporary arrangement. My folks write about plants for a living, if that says anything. I know they love me, deep down... but Wybie's grandma and practically everyone else I've met in the past 5 years have taken more care of me than they have. It's a difficult decision but I'll be unofficially in Ms. Lovat's care until I can move out on my own."

"That's rough," Mabel frowned, "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"It's no secret," Coraline muttered, scuffing her boot against the laminate floor. "Once I get there, there will probably be a lot of questions. I have to be ready and comfortable to answer them."

"How mature of you," Mabel smiled sweetly.

"Really it's-"

"Round up, bus kids! Heading out!" The bus driver called, having taken his 30 minutes to top of the bus's gas at the gas station next door and to go inside to go to the bathroom, a bottle of water pinched between his fingers from the gas station.

Mabel moved to sit next to Wybie and Coraline on the bus, Coraline in the middle seat. Norman moved to sit with Dipper, sitting in the outer seat with Dipper on the inside seat.

"I never thought your cousin would be living in Gravity Falls." Dipper admitted.

"Well, he was a pretty small-town guy. Moving to an even smaller town was good, in his opinion. He isn't much a fan of gray area, he likes the predictability of small town life."

"Oh, I can understand that, but-" Dipper laughed. "He picked the wrong town if he wanted an uneventful life. Do you guys talk often?"

"I met him a couple times, 5 times at most, at family reunions. Last time I talked to him was a month ago. Out of the blue he called and invited me down for the summer. My sister wanted the house to herself, and I'm not the biggest fan of my sister, so I readily agreed. He's a nice guy, a bit of a worry-wart, though. Paranoid about everything. He wanted me over because he thought I would find the place... _interesting_ is the word he used, I think."

Norman had told his cousin about his experience with their grandma (or, rather, her ghost) years ago. In fact, he was one of the few people who believed him. He thought Norman had a gift, although he had made a point to agree it must be a tedious gift to have. He claimed to have a story of his own, but refused to tell it until Norman arrived.

"It's definitely interesting," Dipper consented, "my sister and I are staying at the Mystery Shack there. Our great uncles used to own the place, but now they travel a lot so they just stay there when they're in town. The Mystery Shack alone is 'interesting'." Dipper used air quotes around the word interesting.

"Interesting, how?"

"Well," Dipper started, wondering which story would be a good segue to the strangeness of Gravity Falls without scaring Norman. "It's something one should see for oneself." Dipper shrugged.

Norman grinned, rolling his eyes, "Tease."

"Trust me on this one," Dipper smiled.

Norman laughed, shaking his head, "Whatever you say, Dipper."

_**... A Passing of Time ...** _

"Mabel, have you seen any weird things in Gravity Falls?" Wybie asked, interrupting Mabel and Coraline's conversation about Mabel's pig, Waddles.

"Plenty," Mabel answered seriously. "When I was there one summer, I thought my boyfriend was a zombie. Turned out to be some creepy gnomes."

Coraline giggled, then stopped, seeing the look on Mabel's face. "Seriously?"

"You're one to talk," Wybie muttered under his breath.

"Not just that. Plenty of strange things happen in Gravity Falls. Most people just don't pay enough attention anymore." Mabel said flatly. "You get used to it."

"Well, uh, I kind of had a dimension-crossing dilemma 3 years ago, so I'm not entirely surprised if anything else told as fables were true." Coraline admitted, "It was a witch. Or at least a type of witch. She went by the name Beldam, but I called her Other Mother. She cast spells to try to trap me with her forever to steal my soul, more or less."

"More or less?" Dipper interrupted, obviously having been eavesdropping. "How can it be more or less?"

"I don't know," Coraline shrugged, "it just seemed like the most passive way to say it in my head."

"So let me get this straight," Wybie smiled, his morbid sense of curiosity flaring up. "Coraline saved her family, future generations in the apartments, and released a few souls," His tone turned into a joking one, "I bet you twins saved all of a state."

Dipper sighed, "Well, since we're swapping stories and victories-" A proud expression crossed his features. "Mabel and I saved Gravity Falls."

"Not really," Mabel interrupted, "we saved this dimension."

"You do realize that's bragging even more, right?" Dipper rolled his eyes in amusement, everyone staring in confusion at the twins who seemed to be carrying on their own conversation.

"So what? Bill was awful. We _deserve_ credit for ending weird-mageddon."

Norman opened his phone, with no messages he sent his cousin a text that he was turning his phone off before shutting it down and sliding it in his bag.

"I. Am. So. Lost." Coraline muttered, rubbing her temples in pain.

Mabel patted her shoulder, "No worries. No one there talks about it. It's a law, actually, it's not supposed to be spoken about or written down... making Dipper a criminal since he described the whole thing in detail within his journals. He could show you, if he actually lets anyone read it, that is."

"It's private, Mabel!"

"He's got embarrassing stuff about Wendy in there, I bet." Mabel grinned conspiratorially, "He keeps all of the journals on him all day, every day in case he wants to check for any 'time anomalies'."

"What?" Dipper pouted, "With Time Baby gone, we can't be too careful."

"I'm with Coraline on this one," Norman interjected. "I'm super confused here. You're dropping events and names with zero context."

"Well, _I_ get it." Wybie smiled.

Coraline pulled his ear toward her mouth and whispered hisses in the ear, then causing Wybie to flush considerably and watch the ground intensely. The exchange assumed to be something along the lines of a scolding, yet again.

Norman looked at Dipper, who was studying him, then stared at the sleeve of his hoodie, pretending to scratch some-dried-something off from the fabric. The bus was silent, bordering unnerving, to Norman- causing the boy to scratch his nails against his jeans in his familiar anxious tick. He planned on waiting to tell Dipper about the ghosts when they were alone, so it would seem more sincere.

However, with all the stories flying around, he wondered if everyone was really telling the truth. They all seemed very "out-there", even by a Babcock's standards, so he found himself holding his tongue. There was bound to be a better time than that current moment, he assured himself.

Dipper forced his eyes away from Norman, feeling as though he was making the both of them uncomfortable. Dipper got his phone from his pocket and putting headphones in his ears, playing on a band he'd come to like recently, and closed his eyes in hopes that Norman would rouse him once he was ready to talk again.

Norman pulled a copy of _The Torture of Martyrs: We, the Self-Proclaimed Victims_ from his bag and scrunched his nose at it. He'd gotten the book from a his cousin the previous Christmas with a note insisting it was practically out of print and that he should feel lucky.

Norman did not feel so lucky, seeing a knife dug into what looked to be a pig carcass on the cover of said book. However, Norman insisted to at least give the book a try, especially since the relative swore up and down that the book was just Norman's speed. He'd run out of things to read and he wanted to at least attempt the book.

Norman put in headphones and turned on his small mp3 player, then opened the book to glance over the Introduction, a single sentence making up the entire positive space of the page:

**These essays are not for the faint of philosophy, read on at the risk of enlightenment.**

Norman let out a chortled laugh, the arrogance of the line catching his attention, opening to the first essay entitled We As A People. Norman fell silent as he read. Dipper began to doze off, his cheek resting on the headrest, facing Norman.

"So," Mabel continued, finally finding something to talk about after being floored by Norman and her brother during their silent exchange. "Wybie, Coraline, what do you guys want to do once you get settled in?"

"Well-hunting?" Wybie joked, pretending to hold dowsing rods in his hands.

"Hilarious, Wy," Coraline muttered, shaking her head. "What is this Weirdmageddon you were talking about?"

"Well," Mabel started, grinning, "I couldn't tell the entire story alone, I was in an alternate universe for a good part of it."

"Sounds exciting," Wybie laughed, earning an endeared eyeroll from Coraline. "What was it like?"

"There were fluffy clouds, hot boys, and unicorns. You know, what dreams are made of." Mabel laughed, glad to be able to lift it off from her chest- regardless if they believed her or not. However, Mabel found herself sure that these strangers on the bus, including Norman, all had their respective stories they were changed by.

A silence fell over the bus as Mabel moved to another bench to stretch across a row of seats to get a nap. Wybie wrapped his arms around Coraline's waist and smiled with adoring eyes, resting his head on her shoulder. Coraline scooted closer to him and rested her head on top of his and the couple soon fell asleep. Norman, however, stayed awake reading until the light began to fade. When the light was no longer sufficient enough to read, he put his book away and leaned his head on the seat in front of him, falling into a light sleep. **** ****


	3. The Hills Have Pines (and Other Assorted Greenery)

The bus driver arrived at Gravity Falls well after sunset, standing from his chair with a heave, he looked upon the sleeping teens. He hadn't planned on arriving this late, or glazing over the original plan of stopping every few towns for breaks, but the traffic had been hectic- even for the current time of year- and he'd been forced to make more pit stops and re-directions than planned. Fortunately, his passengers slept through the worst of it all. He walked to Mabel, who laid closest to him and shook her shoulder gently.

She woke easily, smiling, "Are we here?"

"We're here, kid. Gravity Falls. If you wake everyone up, I will take the bags outside for you all. I am sorry I can't take you guys to your places, but it's already so late." He smiled.

Mabel didn't know it, but she reminded the aging driver of his daughter, who was waiting at home. The similarity was especially close when Mabel yawned and stretched her arms above her head.

"You're very nice, sir. At worst, we can all stay at a friend's house for the night," Mabel told the man, thinking of Wendy and the woman's abnormal sleep schedule, before moving her bag to the seat for him to take.

Mabel whispered something quietly in Dipper's ear, causing him to wake with a screech.

"MABEL! YOU KNOW I HATE BREATHY WHISPERING!"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" She smiled coyly, Norman waking with a jump and a sour expression at Dipper's screaming in his face.

Coraline woke up shortly after, whispering something to wake Wybie, earning a joking whine from him.

"Clingy," Coraline mouthed with a blush in Mabel's direction.

"Mr. Bus-Man has got most of our bags outside, so let's go." Mabel instructed, leading everyone off the bus.

"I thought he was driving us all the way," Coraline huffed, taking her purse off the ground as the bus went a side-road to loop back to the highway.

"It's really late, and he probably has a family to get home to," Wybie soothed, taking Coraline's luggage from the ground.

"We can stay at my cousins' for the night, probably," Norman offered. "He runs an inn-slash-bookstore off the corner of Fern Drive."

"That would be awesome," Dipper muttered after hefting his bag, yawning before glancing at the clock on his phone, "Seeing as it's almost 11."

"Wow, must have been some traffic." Mabel muttered to herself, yawning too.

"No kidding," Coraline rubbed the sleep from her eyes, "Even Wybie's grandma would be asleep by now. Either way, we should all get in contact before we get settled in case anyone is waiting up."

"Good point, and I have to call my cousin to make sure it'd be okay. No doubt he's watching some noir film at this time of night." Norman muttered to himself, calling his cousin.

...

  
Wirt picked up on the second ring, "Norman, you're really late, everything alright?"

"Yeah but me and a couple of other kids from the bus need a place for what's left of the night. We haven't really eaten and I'm guessing none of their respective caretakers are up this late." Norman replied, watching Coraline and Wybie share a phone and Dipper taking the reigns contacting the Mystery Shack.

"Good call, I could pick you all up in the book van if you want?" Wirt responded, the sound of hokey acting muffled through the receiver.

"If you wouldn't mind. We'd really appreciate it."

"How many of you?"

"Including me? Five."

"Gotcha, are you at the town line?"

"Right next to the sign."

"Be there in 10 minutes, Norman. Don't move."

"Wouldn't dare." Norman joked before hanging up.

Norman caught the last shred of each of their voicemails they were leaving. A polite Coraline saying she would be over as soon as she could, Wybie interrupting to tell his grandma he loved her before Coraline ended the call. Dipper being curt and explaining they were late but were staying with a friend and would be over in the morning, then the Pines boy hung up.

"My cousin will be here in a bit with the book van." Norman explained, causing Dipper to laugh.

"Like delivers-books-per-request, 'book van'?" Dipper questioned, excited.

"Yeah," Norman nodded, looking down the dimly-lit street for a van.

"You gotta get me his number," Dipper grinned.

"Nerd," Mabel coughed coyly, "Oops, did I say that out loud? Now I feel really bad. Bad Mabel!"

"Emperor's New Groove," Wybie whistled, "Nice."

Soon, a white van with "Book Mobile" spray-painted crudely on the side drove up beside the teens, rolling down it's driver-side window. A scraggly head of hair poked through the window, then followed by a face when the hair was moved from his eyes, smiling broadly.

"Hey! I'm Wirt. Hop in the back!"

Norman laughed, opening the back of the van and climbing inside, closing the door when everyone had gotten inside. The bookshelves were modified and adhered to the floor, locked shut with cabinet doors. The teens sat in the spaces between the two shelves, The twins and luggage on one side, Norman, Wybie, and Coraline on the other.

"I hope you realize how shady this situation is, Wirt." Norman laughed, having to support his shaking frame on Wybie to keep from falling over from laughter.

Everyone laughed along, including Wirt. Mostly because of the funny sound Norman made, snorting from laughing so hard.

"Whatever, Norm. Let's head to the inn, I have to put you all in Norman's room so you need to divvy up the bed, couch, and chairs." Wirt added, eyes glued to the road as he drove.

"Girls get the bed!" Mabel called, raising her hand.

"Damn," Wybie muttered, "guess I'm gonna put the two chairs together. I hope I don't have to hang my butt down between the chairs."

"We can sleep head-to-foot on the pull-out couch, Dipper." Norman suggested.

"I'd rather sleep back-to-back, Norman." Dipper laughed, "No offense to your feet, it's just that you really do not want to sleep next to mine."

"Alright," Norman agreed soundly.

...

  
After they all had a light dinner of bologna sandwiches and juice (but a bowl of baby carrots with an apple to suit Coraline's vegan diet), they all were as quiet as they could as they went up the steps and went into the biggest vacant room available, in the attic. They set their bags in a specific corner and immediately laid down, not bothering to change.

"Goodnight, Dipper!" Mabel stage-whispered.

"Goodnight, Mabel!" Dipper whispered back.

Everyone took their turn to join into the Pines twins' tradition and told each other goodnight, even though it was less than a half hour until midnight and they were all exhausted.

"Goodnight, Dipper..." Norman whispered.

"Goodnight, Norman..." Dipper whispered back, yawning.

With the cycle ended, everyone fell asleep.

... 

  
When morning broke, Norman was the first to open his eyes. He was used to being bombarded with spirits at every waking moment, not waking up to one gave him a strange sense of relief. Being careful not to wake Dipper and the others, he pulled his hoodie from the floor and put it on as he made his way out of the door. He closed it painstakingly slow, the door whispering a small creak as it shut. Tip-toeing down the stairs, he found his cousins Wirt and Greg sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating oatmeal.

"Hey, Norman!" Greg said a tad too loudly, then lowered his voice with a smile. "Sorry. Hey, Norman."

"Greggy." Norman teased.

"Nooooo," Greg blushed, embarrassed, "Greggggg."

"Gregory, then." Norman continued, amused by his young cousin.

"You do this every time you see him, Norman." Wirt pointed out, shaking his head. "Still, he keeps falling for it."

"It's fun," Greg admits, finishing his oatmeal and putting the bowl in the sink. "I miss Norman."

"Well, I'm here now." Norman grinned, watching Greg move from the kitchen to the living room to turn on the tv.

"So, Wirt," Norman started, "How's business?"

"Good enough," Wirt exhaled, watching his half-brother in the other room. "The inn business is much better during the summer- it's the only time it gets packed, actually. Otherwise, most of the money comes from the book-selling."

"You never told me how you go about that."

"Well," Wirt took his attention from Greg to Norman. "I get donated books from people from Gravity Falls or I get books in bulk online at discount prices and re-sell them in the truck or online. The system isn't perfect, but we're doing alright here. My specialty here is that I can find rare books that are hard to find or are out of print. The price of living in Gravity Falls is surprisingly low. Everyone here is pretty self-sufficient. People here are more likely to trade services than to exchange cash, except for tourists, that is. Practically everyone here is willing to take every dime from tourists."

Greg had turned to greet someone staying at the inn with a hello. The couple smiled and exhaled a hello to Greg before continuing on their way. Greg watched cartoons absently, his eyes glued to the green alien yelling on the screen, its purple eyes squinting in irritation.

"How are things?" Norman asked vaguely.

"They're better," Wirt admitted. "It was really hard for both of us at first, me never even living alone before this happened and having to maintain a living this way has definitely been... difficult. He got enrolled in school, poor kid is really good at making friends but I think he's afraid to bring them home."

"Why would you think that?" Norman asked, watching Greg chuckle under his breath at a joke on the tv.

"He told me a while back that he didn't want to bother me." Wirt let out a shaky breath, "God, and to think I used to resent Greg. The kid's got a heart of gold and after what we went through-" He took a breath and calmed, Greg looking at him worriedly. "Greg is still the sweetest kid I know."

Norman nodded. Wirt had yet to tell him the full story, bits and pieces of vague hints and inklings over the times they've talked, but the only thing Norman knew for sure was that it still sets Wirt on edge, though four years had already passed. Norman understood, though, hard to escape a memory when there are shadows to remind him at every turn and even harder to share it with others.

Wirt noticed Norman drifting off, eyes growing distant. Wirt promptly rose from his chair.

"I don't usually make breakfast for people who stay," he smiled, trying to lighten Norman's spirits, "but for you, I will make an exception."

"Thanks," Norman mumbled, eyes watching Wirt's hands as he used his height to easily reach the box of oatmeal on a top shelf.

"Hey, Wirt?" Norman started, catching Wirt's full attention as the man was putting a pot of water on the stove.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't encounter any ghosts in the house. Usually I'm bombarded if I've stayed in one place this long." Norman remembered a ghost of a rat on the bus, but other than that, he hadn't encountered any since the day at the bookstore with Dipper.

"Oh, that." Wirt nodded to himself, then tapped the knuckle of his index finger on the wall. "I got the house cleansed and warded when we moved in, even got talismans and the like hidden around the house. I heard from someone that weird stuff happened here in Gravity Falls... I figured that we needed a form of protection for Greg and I. It protects this property, but if you wanted a personal one you would have to get it specially made."

Norman shook his head, "No, the ghosts are alright and all, I just like to have a sanctuary from them is all."

"Understandable." Wirt commented, pouring the oatmeal into the boiling water. "Do you take your oatmeal with anything?"

"Just butter, milk, and sugar."

"Can do." Wirt responded, stirring the contents of the pan. "Would you mind letting Greg show you around town today? He needs to get out of the house to relax for a while and I can't leave The Bluebird without anyone attending."

"Sure. Dipper already offered, but maybe if we all went together, they could tell each other places the other doesn't know about."

"Good point." Wirt nodded, a nod of understanding that a father would have, and it made Norman's heart ache a little. The responsibility Wirt now held over the life of his younger brother aged him immeasurably. "The oatmeal is done. Once you finish, it might be best to wake your friends."

"Friends?" Norman said aloud, "I don't know about friends-"

"Well, friend, at least. I saw how you were with that Dipper guy yester-"

"Wirt, I-"

"Stop it." Wirt interrupted, taking the spoon that had previously stirred the oatmeal and pointing it at Norman. "I get it, Norm. When you moved, you got uprooted from all you knew. I've been there too, remember?" An expression crossed Wirt's face as he remembered moving out of his own home to a town in scenic nowhere in hopes to start his life over again, and to hopefully improve Greg's in the process.

Wirt lowered the accusatory spoon and sighed, setting the bowl in front of Norman. "You and I are a lot alike. We both don't think highly of ourselves to the point of flaw. But you have got to let it go, or at least not let it affect your life so much. Those kids are good for you, there's something special about them. In all the time I've known you, I have never seen you that happy. Don't ruin it by standing in your own way, Norm. It's okay to feel close to people 'too fast'. Okay?"

Norman nodded dumbly.

"Okay, here's your oatmeal. Eat it quick before it gets cold, I need to head to the front counter." Wirt said hurriedly, untying the apron from his waist and hanging it on a hook. "Norm, don't worry about scaring him off. If he's worth it, he'll inadvertently prove it to you." Wirt gave a final tap-tap to Norman's shoulder before leaving to head to the front of the house.

Norman ate his oatmeal distractedly, his mind wandering to the teens upstairs. Sure, he'd taken a particular interest in Dipper, but that was because he knew him- distantly. Norman tended to sit in the back of classes, Dipper near the front. In the few classes they had together, Norman had formed a one-sided closeness to the boy he watched from afar. It was not in admiration that he watched Dipper, so much as fascination. He was outstandingly different from the rest of their classmates and Norman, in his own mind, felt he was the only one who noticed this obscure and unseen quality that made Dipper different from everyone else. Norman saw it in himself when he would spare a glance in the mirror, an insatiable curiosity and a yearning for something unseen.

Maybe it was the same for Dipper as it was for Norman, a yearning to diverge from the mundane. The excitement (albeit terror as well) that derived from the autumn that the dead rose and the happiness that came from his gift being put to a higher purpose, to save the living and redeem the dead. Norman wished to have that purpose back. He was sinking in place, his only deeds coming from the occasional helping of a wayward spirit that needed to be put to rest, once and for all. Norman wondered if Dipper had some yearning like that too, or if he was just projecting.

At that moment, Coraline walked down the stairs quietly, her boyfriend nowhere to be seen.

"Norman, I'm about to wake up Wybie. I just wanted to thank you and your cousin for letting us stay here for the night. It's really appreciated."

"No problem," Norman replied, frowning at his spoon when it scraped against the bottom of the empty bowl. "Let me know if you guys want to hang out while I'm visiting this summer."

"Of course!" Coraline smiled, surprising Norman. "Sounds like fun. I don't want to spend the entire time hanging with Wybie." She tousled her mussed hair and laughed, "Don't get me wrong, we're a great couple and all but it's nice to have other people to hang around with."

"I guess I can understand that," Norman shrugged, tilting his head a little. He stood and washing his dish before putting it in the drier by the sink. "Well, you know where I am."

"For better or worse," Coraline agreed, using both hands to bring a fake pistol in front of her, making a weak attempt at the sound of a gun firing a round. "See you around, Norman."

"See you," Norman replied, watching her disappear behind the wall shielding the stairs from his eyes.

Wybie followed Coraline when she came down the stairs and waved at Norman as he left.

"Sorry, I'm a bit loud. I woke up Mabel, but Dipper still seems to be asleep." Wybie commented as he closed the front door leading to the street.

...

  
Mabel came down the stairs a while later, clothes changed and hair brushed with her bag in tow, "Morning, Normie."

"Hey," Norman smiled, sitting with Greg as they watched cartoons. "Want to watch this with us? The Mystery Kid is on the case."

"Oh, I love this show." Mabel sat next to Greg, her legs curling next to her on the couch. "Is this the episode with the giant robots?"

"No, you missed it." Greg muttered, "That was last episode."

"Dang it!" Mabel pouted, "I love that episode."

"Then you should wake up earlier," Greg smiled to himself, making Mabel laugh.

"What's your name?" Mabel asked, watching Greg with interest.

"Gregory." Norman answered for him.

"Greg," the boy corrected, adjusting the right strap of his overalls.

"I like your clothes," Mabel smiled, looking over the boy's outdated sense of clothing, from his loose overalls to the striped shirt he wore under it and the hiking boots on his feet. "Do you wear things like this often?"

Greg nodded, "They remind me of The Wood."

"The Wood?" Mabel asked, the way he'd said the place coming off as vaguely ominous.

Norman interrupted, looking down at Greg with desperation, "You should help Wirt with the morning chores so you can show me around town."

Greg- unaware (or ignoring) Norman's avoidance of the subject of their incident- left the two teens alone to help Wirt.

If Mabel had noticed the shift of mood in Norman, she didn't point it out, just continuing to watch the TV. Norman rose to his feet, making the slow trek up the stairs to wake Dipper. When he opened the door, the girls had apparently made each side of their bed and Wybie putting the chairs back where they originally sat.

"Dipper," Norman whispered, not wanting to scare Dipper awake. Dipper's hair, fallen from his forehead, showed the birthmark across his forehead, a constellation Norman recognized all too quickly. Norman felt a smile grow on his face as he reached out to trace the outline of the big dipper. Dipper woke with a start the moment Norman's fingertip touched his skin.

"Oh, Norman... It's just you." Dipper said in relief.

"Yeah," Norman half-smiled, not able to determine if Dipper sounded relieved or disappointed, "It's just me." **** ****


	4. We Need to Talk about Greg (Cus' Be Ackin' Cray-Cray)

"Sorry, Norman. Did I sleep in?" Dipper asked, using his arms to lift himself into a sitting position.

Norman shook his head, "No, it's not even noon yet. Your sister is watching TV downstairs with Greg. I'll help you put the bed back into the couch if you want to."

"If you don't mind," Dipper rubbed his eyes sleepily, "but I think I am going to change first."

"Yeah," Norman sighed, "Sure. I'll go ahead and put the blanket back in the closet."

"I guess Coraline and Wybie left," Dipper said absently, pulling the shirt over his head, bending over and tossing a tee into his other hand. He used his left hand to get his blank journal from his bag.

Norman caught sight of the journal out of the corner of his eye, "Your sister was right, you do seem very attached to the journaling thing."

"Well," Dipper started, tossing his journal on the bed to pull a fresh shirt over his head. "I used to keep a journal when we first visited Gravity Falls." He pulled a pen from his jeans pocket, using his teeth to pull off the lid. "Although it was more of a... wildlife guide than a journal."

Dipper smiled to himself, as though he'd said a funny joke. Norman was lost upon its humor.

"So, your journals now are more like a diary?" Norman asked, moving his eyes back to the task at hand, folding the blanket across his chest.

"I always liked calling it a Captain's Log," Dipper joked, "Sounds more manly. But yeah, they're in-depth diaries."

"I never wrote a diary, I just tended to read my sister's." Norman reached to the top of the closet, barely tall enough to reach, and placed the blanket on the shelf, turning to face Dipper as the boy took his time writing his words the way he wanted.

"I never wrote one until we left Gravity Falls, and even before then I never read Mabel's. Since we're twins, we kind of have to share everything so we decided that it was the one thing we could have that was sacred, you know?" Dipper confided, taking pauses between every few words he spoke to write the passage in his journal. When he finished, he put the cap back on his pen and stuck it in his pocket. "Once I unpack, I can put all of my journals in my little backpack. I carry it pretty much everywhere, with all the journals inside."

"Scared someone will read them?" Norman asked.

"Yes and no," Dipper shrugged, putting the notebook away and saddling beside Norman to help fold away the bed. "Partially it's that someone will read them, the other part is what they will _think_ when they read it."

"What do you mean?" Norman asked, slipping forward as he lifted the heavy frame and hit his ribs against the metal frame with a painful thud.

"You alright?" Dipper asked, eyes searching Norman's face for a sign of pain.

Norman's expression twitched only for a second before returning to his neutral expression.

"I'm okay, just a bruise."

"Do you bruise easily?"

"Not really," Norman laughed, dropping the frame into the aging couch. "I just have pale skin, so every little bruise shows. I'm used to bruises... but, really, what are you hiding that you're so afraid someone will see?"

Dipper inhaled slowly through his nose and opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, biting the inside of his bottom lip. "I wrote a lot about Gravity Falls, and what my sister and I experienced here. Some of the information I wrote down would be very dangerous for the wrong person to find. Plus, some of the things I wrote are very personal."

"Oh," Norman breathed out, the word almost indistinguishable from the sound of an exhaled breath. He wondered if the Wendy person Mabel had mentioned was featured in the journal.

Norman was at a loss of what to say, he didn't know whether or not to press further on the topic. So, choosing the safer route, he changed the subject.

"So I was wondering if Greg could come along when you show me around today?"

"Of course, that's fine. My sister loves kids, honestly she loves just about everything." Dipper picked up his bag from the floor. "I was also thinking I could introduce you to a friend of mine I kind of hung around with when Mabel and I were here a couple years ago. When we get back to the Mystery Shack, I can call you and we can all meet up and see the sights."

"Sounds like fun." Norman responded half-heartedly, taking the outstretched phone from him and saving his number under Norman Babcock with a zombie emoji beside the name. Norman held out his phone and Dipper took it doing the same. "Do you need a ride? I have my license and I think Wirt would let me borrow his van if I hurried back."

"Don't worry about it," Dipper smiled, "I think I wanna walk to the Shack, get the whole feeling of being back here again. Mabel may want a ride, though."

Norman glanced at his phone absently, and could suddenly feel the distance between them. Norman wondered, deep down, if it may have had something to do with his silence when everyone shared their summarized versions of their supernatural experiences. Norman couldn't help but wonder if his silence had assured Dipper they could never truly be friends. He exhaled, telling himself he was being stupid and pressed forward with the conversation.

"Dipper," Norman said the name without realizing it while putting the cushions back on the couch. Dipper made a noise to show he was listening. Realising he'd spoken, he decided to just say what he was thinking. "I know we've only known each other for literally less than twenty-four hours but do you think you could consider me a friend?"

Dipper was so shocked by the question, he even lost his balance for a moment.

"I mean, I guess so, Norman." Dipper took a moment to change his tone, afraid he'd sounded too blunt, he took a softer voice. "I mean, like you said, we don't know each other very well."

Norman shrugged, "Just wondering."

He tried to hide the hurt he felt by exiting the room and heading back to the tv where Greg sat. The two of them sat on the couch and Greg looked at him observingly. As if deciding something, Greg wrapped his arms around his cousin's arm and leaned his head on his shoulder.

"I missed you, Mr. Normal," Greg whispered.

"Missed you too, Farmer McGregor." Norman smiled, consoled by the boy's obvious attempt to cheer him up. Mabel padded quietly upstairs so the boys' conversation did not get interrupted.

"Your voice sounds better now," Greg said plainly, still interested in his show. "You don't sound as upset as you do over the phone."

"Yeah," Norman said more to himself than to Greg, "Here, I don't have to bend over backwards to make everyone happy."

"Wirt says that at the end of the day, as long as you're happy, your loved ones should be too." Greg looked over to Norman, his mouth forming the words, mind disconnected from the adult words he was reiterating (even though he knew exactly what they meant for _him_ in his healing from The Unknown).

"Do you like it here?" Norman asked, making sure Wirt was not in the room before looking back at Greg for the answer.

"People here are nice, they care more," he scratched an invisible itch on the back of his left hand. "The town is smaller, Wirt said that's why."

"That's not what I mean," Norman frowned.

"I don't miss Mom and Dad, if that's what you mean." Greg was perceptive as always, but according to Wirt he only became blunt after the divorce. "They have their own problems, Wirt and I were just another one... At least, that's what they said."

"They _said_ that?" Norman asked, too surprised to restrain himself from asking the invasive question.

"The day we left," Greg moved his eye contact from Norman to the tv, his gaze glassy. "Wirt was in the car. I don't think they know I heard them. Years ago, after the thing in The Unknown... we told them what happened and they sent us to therapy. Wirt got out faster since he lied about it, but I told them everything. They said I was pa-para-" Greg got frustrated, his face scrunched. "I don't know how to say it."

"Paranoid schizophrenic." Wirt muttered, leaning against the doorframe nearby. The two's heads snapped up quickly, uncomfortable that they'd been overheard. "They said he'd hallucinated the whole thing and that I 'encouraged his fantasies' about The Wood."

The door upstairs closed and the twins came downstairs with their luggage. Reading the atmosphere, both said an awkward thank-you before speeding through the front door. Silence ensued for several more seconds after they left before Wirt sighed, he sat beside the two boys on the couch.

"We should tell him now," Greg told Wirt, leaning over Norman, as if Norman had dissipated into thin air within the past five seconds.

"It's a long story," Wirt told Norman, gauging his reaction.

Norman nodded patiently as the boys steeled themselves to tell the story. The boys were right, Norman would soon find out, it _was_ a long story.

...  
 **P.O.F.**  
 **Pines Twins**

"Well, that was weird." Dipper muttered, glancing back at the inn. "All I heard was something about some woods."

"You mean _The_ Wood," Mabel corrected.

"What?"

"Greg said something about it earlier, the way he said it sounded like a proper noun, not a regular one."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dipper asked confused.

"Well, it means _something_ important," she answered, adjusting the hem of her sweater. "Greg seemed off when he mentioned it."

"What do you think happened?"

"It's none of our business," she answered pointedly, shrugging before scurrying up the Mystery Shack stairs.

Dipper sighed. She was right, he told himself, it was none of his business. The sound of Mabel squealing, screeching, and jumping to hug Soos, then coo over his newly-wed wife Melody, made him exhale a sharp sigh. Sometimes, he found his sister's constant exhuberance to be exhausting.

Dipper dropped his bags at the door when he walked in, giving Soos a quick hug before giving a friendly but awkward hello to Melody. Mabel ran upstairs to put away her things, which left him with the couple. They were cute together, Dipper conceded, Melody making a vague reference to something and Soos responded in kind before she returned to the cashier's counter.

"So, how's everything?" Dipper asked weakly, his lack of communication with Soos extended to not knowing much more than his recent wedding 2 months prior.

"It's alright, everyone really likes the new upside-down room." He says proudly, not catching on to Dipper's awkwardness (much to Dipper's silent relief).

"That's great, Soos." Dipper sighed, smiling. "You seem happy."

"Yeah, your uncles should be here in the next few days. They didn't say when, they said something about wanting to play it by ear." Soos muttered, "whatever that means."

"I'm gonna put my stuff away," Dipper said more to himself than Soos, picking up his things and moving to his shared room with his sister.

"Dip! Dip! D-D-D-Dip!" Mabel muttered as if rapping, sunglasses upside down on her face.

"That will never be funny," Dipper chastised, smiling anyway.

"Yeah but it makes you smile!" She grinned, "You should be happy we made friends before we even got here! We don't have to worry about the old gang being too old to hang with us _minors_."

"Wendy's not like that," Dipper defended, sliding his stacks of clothes onto a nearby shelf.

"Things are different, Dipper," Mabel admitted, her voice dampening with sadness. "We've all changed."

"Not Wendy," he continued weakly before dropping the subject entirely. "So, Norman and the Coraline/Wybie combo... what do you think?"

"Coraline is fun," Mabel stated, "Wybie is quirky but in a good way, and Norman seems a little... quiet?"

"Yeah, I thought so too..." Dipper agreed, "He asked me if we were friends this morning."

"What did you say?" Mabel asked disappointedly, knowing where the conversation was going.

"I said we didn't know each other very well."

"Dip- _per_!" Mabel yelled scoldingly.

"What?!" 

"This is why people won't be friends with you!" Mabel rolled her eyes, hanging her head in exaggerated disappointment before looking at Dipper again. "You don't just _feel_ things like you should! You have to overanalyze _everything_!"

"When we were kids, things were different."

"If you say 'Trust no one' I will actually sock you in the kisser." Mabel grunted, unamused and crossing her arms.

" _Well_ -!"

"Well, nothing! That was so mean! You're supposed to say 'Sure, Norman! Maybe we can be even closer friends over this summer!' No _wonder_ he was so bummed when he came downstairs. You don't have to be able to pass a pop quiz on them to consider them a friend!"

"You're a pain," Dipper pouted petulantly.

"That, my brother, is the pain that comes with knowing the truth. The truth hurts." Punching her twin in the arm, then, laughing to herself distractedly, her seriousness left her voice. "I really wish I had my bubble pipe, it would've been perfect just now."

Dipper's mind drifted off and he checked his phone, then sent a text to Norman.

<\------- To: Norman (×_×*) 9:41 am  
 _Hey. Sorry I was harsh earlier. I just don't make or keep friends very well, so I get defensive._

After a few minutes of Dipper waiting silently for a response, he turned off his screen and glanced at his sister who was turning her phone off and putting it away in a drawer, muttering to herself that she didn't need it anyway. The twins eventually made their way to the kitchen, pouring each of them a bowl of cereal to eat. Dipper kept his phone on the table, waiting in hopes for an acceptance of his apology.

**\---**   
**P.O.F.**   
**Coraline & Wybie**

Having settled at Wybie's grandmother's, Coraline put her things away in the various nooks and crannies lurking about while Wybie left her alone to give her privacy. Coraline had steeled herself for weeks before this move while all her files from her doctors, her schools, et cetera, were transferred to those in Gravity Falls. However, when she woke up that morning in a strange bed, Mabel's face beside hers, a sudden fear instilled its quivering of her heart into her stuttering hands. She managed to keep them from shaking too noticably but her fingers twitched every time she glanced at a door or window, begging her to run away.

She didn't want to be unwanted, although she knew she wasn't unwanted per-say. Coraline knew, however, that somewhere along the way her parents no longer enjoyed being parents and she blamed herself for that. She blamed herself for her parents not getting better jobs that paid more and left them with less stress, she blamed herself for their financial problems because they had one more person to take care of, and she blamed herself for their constant moves but she knew that those things were out of her control. No matter how happy her parents were that she was alive and well, deep down, Coraline knew that once she was an adult their relationship would change to something less painful. She hoped that would be the case, anyway.

Wybie's grandmother had entered the room silently, watching Coraline stare at a old family portrait from when she was a child. After a final look, Coraline threw the framed photograph into a drawer and slammed it shut, wincing at the sound of glass cracking from inside the drawer. 

The old woman clicked her tongue at the girl, whose shoulders promptly sagged.

"Can you blame me?"

"The question should be 'Do you blame them?', shouldn't it, Coraline?" The woman responded. "They couldn't do it alone."

"Yeah, and now they don't have to do it at all."

"Give it time, Coraline," the woman smiled sadly, patting the girl's shoulder. "Just think about it."

Coraline nodded, Wybie's grandmother leaving the room to usher Wybie in (who stood silently at the door after hearing his grandmother's voice), his face downturned in a rare sad expression. Wybie stepped in when she left and hugged Coraline tightly from behind, his body towering slightly over her as he hunched to lean his cheek on her head. Coraline cried silently, thankful that the arms around her tightening their hug.

After a few minutes, Coraline wiped her eyes and forced a smile, "We should call Mabel."

It took a few rings before the line went to voicemail. "Drats," Coraline muttered foully as if she had cursed. "Her phone must be off. We don't have Dipper's number."

"We can call the Shack, where they're staying, it should be in the phone book." Wybie mentioned, "I'll bring you the phone book. Do you want some breakfast?"

Coraline nodded quietly.

"Oreos and root beer?"

Coraline nodded again, smiling a little, "You know me so well."

"Coming right up." Wybie said with a smile, racing out of the room and down the stairs.

Coraline took her moment alone to open the drawer she had just slammed shut. The photo was cracked in a zig-zagged L-shape, decapitating her head from the rest of the picture. She sighed, fighting back tears, and slid the drawer shut with all the care she could muster. She had to check in once she got there over the phone, and once a week thereon. Taking her phone in her hand she made a quick call to her mother's cell, then her father's, both to no avail. She left a message on their home phone's answering machine.

"Hey, it's me... Coraline... your daughter. I'm here okay and I made some new friends... Talk to you soon... Bye."

After exhaling she looked up to see Wybie's serious expression become a smile, "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough for your root beer to no longer be hazardous to open."

Coraline, despite herself, laughed, "You're the best."

"I know," he smiled, setting the phone book on her bed, handing her her breakfast.

"Where's your breakfast?"

"You and me live together now, we share everything~!" He cooed.

"Except clothes, I hope, you'd stretch out my jeans." Coraline laughed.

"Fine but my clothes are fair game, have at it... except my underwear, obviously."

Coraline laughed, choking on her drink, "Wouldn't dream of it, Spooky."


	5. Attention: Welcome Wagon on the Air (... with breaking news)

**P.O.F.**

**The Bluebird B &B**

After the story had run its course, Norman's brain was still absorbing the finer details when a question finally began to make its way to the forefront of his mind. He considered asking, but once he had decided, he was a moment too late-- the question went unanswered. (The sound of the bell dinging at reception forced Wirt to return to his duties.) Norman picked his cell phone up where he'd abandoned it on the coffee table earlier to hear their story; after turning on the screen, he noticed the story that Wirt and Greg had told him had taken the better part of an hour to tell. Seeing Dipper's text, Norman responded with a half-hearted forgiveness as his mind tried to wrap around the idea (no, the _phenomenon)_ that was The Unknown. He didn't have the time to rehash his wounded feelings from earlier that morning.

_\--- >From: Norman_   
_< \---To: Dipper_

_It's fine, talk to you a bit later._

He exhaled sharply, pinching his eyes much like he was fending off an impending headache, and frowned to himself as he itched a spot on his hand. Suddenly, he saw a fly crawling on the back of his right hand, and he killed it with a single quick slap of his left palm. A memory of his uncle suddenly resurfaced as he stared at the crushed fly, he took a moment to remember the feeling of tearing the book from the man's rigored hands as the flies had already begun crawling on him and buzzing about his corpse. The dry, parchment-like feeling of his uncle's discolored skin as the muscles around his knuckles and fingers already had begun to slough off beneath Norman's touch. 

His stomach turned at the memory of the smell, causing him to gag involuntarily. Greg's cautioned touch of Norman's forearm made it obvious to the older boy that Greg could sense something was off. It made Norman feel weak, like he was a scared child again, just like he was during the Incident.

"You're remembering that day... aren't you, Norm?" Greg whispered, more to soothe Norman's nerves than avoid being heard.

Norman nodded, "I don't know if I told you about my uncle, but I had to take the book I needed from his body."

"But, that day, I thought you said he-" 

"He was," Norman finished, sweeping the fly from his hand into the waste bin beside him; Greg understood the nuances of the tone and gesture, the boy's face simply took on a blank expression before he excused himself to play in his room, wise to Norman's need to be alone.

The cartoon had only a few minutes left, muted for Wirt and Greg to tell their story, but caught the edge Norman's eye when the colors suddenly changed from bleak greens and purples to flashes of red across the screen in a breaking news report. Norman scrambled to turn the volume up in time to hear the local newscaster. The camera footage showed a field surrounded by trees, with 3 blurred silhouettes with a large halo of red surrounding the corpses.

"This is not footage of last week's victims, viewers, but is actually another 3 cases of animal attack. To those of you watching, the Gravity Falls city council has issued a curfew in hopes to prevent more tragedies such as these, it takes effect immediately so no one is allowed outdoors after sunset. A statement issued by the sheriff's department orders that anyone who disobeys the curfew will be locked in holding overnight for their own safety. Please stay safe, everyone, and back to the weather."

Norman's eyes were glued to the screen, his eyes seeing the blurred, semi-nude, censored bodies on the screen and grass visibly caked with blood with every blink of his eyes. He could see them even when he closed his eyes. His fingers shook as he sent a text to Dipper.

_< \----From: Norman_   
_\---- >To: Dipper_

_Have you seen the news?_

A few moments later, Dipper was calling Norman over the phone. Dipper's voice was strained, as though he was trying to regain his composure.

"So, Norman, I think the sight seeing is not really an option anymore." Dipper uttered, feeling that stating the obvious was the easiest way to end the conversation. Norman could hear the sound of Dipper's hair brushing against the receiver, as well as the rustling of papers in the background. "Mabel's going to go over to talk to Wybie and Coraline... and I have to make a few calls. My sister put her phone out of commission so just contact me if anything... _odd_ happens, okay? I'll try to keep you updated."

It was at this instant, his eyes staring unfocused into the street, that Norman realized there was a spirit outside staring right at him. Norman let in a sharp hiss of surprise, startling Dipper on the line. The house was warded, the spirit couldn't get in, but it still somehow knew he was there.

"What's the matter? You okay? You sound like you've-" Dipper started.

"Yeah," Norman whispered distractedly, "I gotta go. I'll keep in touch." 

He hung up, cutting Dipper off mid-sentence and going through the front door, the screen door clinking shut behind him. The ghost stood silently in the road, face covered in deep gashes as one eye hung loosely from its socket; throat was sliced from beneath the chin to the collarbone, inside of the throat torn open, most of her body looked as though she'd quite literally been chewed and spit back out. It was reminiscent of a neighbor's fabric doll chewed to shreds by the family dog, left on the sidewalk to rot.

The female spirit, appearing only a few years older than Norman, opened her mouth and tried to form words as her useless vocal cords hung visibly within her neck. She reached out her arms and let out a silent roar, gone as quickly as she had appeared. Norman's phone buzzed in his hand, when he answered it Wirt was on the line. In Norman's inner turmoil, he barely recognized his cousin's voice.

"Come inside, Norman, it's not safe." To which Norman nodded, hung up, and headed towards the door. Wirt stood inside, door open but the screen still closed, his phone held tightly in his hand at his right side as he watched Norman silently through the front window. Norman texted Dipper a single phrase, _there will be more_ , heart heavy at the his mind's after-images of the woman's flayed flesh and torn clothes.

\---

**P.O.F.**   
**Dipper** **Pines**

Dipper watched out his window, radio playing repeats of the breaking news in a continuous loop in the background. He waited to see Mabel walk back towards the Mystery Shack or to see a sudden early arrival of his great uncles. He waited for _any_ sign of life on the street, but it had been quiet since they had gotten off the bus. Eerily quiet. _Things_ _ **always**_ _happened in Gravity Falls_ , Dipper reasoned, _but nothing like this._ _All this happening was weird but not in the run-of-the-mill Gravity Falls way._

_But more_ **_what_**? Dipper wanted to know, _and how does Norman know, does he know what the Falls is up against?_ Despite Dipper's wonderings, he did not ask Norman directly about the cryptic message. Without saying, somehow, he knew what Norman meant-- more victims. More will die if the animal is not stopped, but stop it how?

After climbing the roof to make a call to his parents to let them know they were there safe (knowing no response would come), a voicemail to his gruncles' shared mobile phone, a call to the sheriff's office in hopes of getting some information (none was given seeing as he was "unaffiliated with the case at hand"), and a call to an old cryptid contact (The Lilliputtians) for a steady flow of gossip from humans (most of the information Dipper received was as unhelpful as he'd expected), all calls of which had to be made from the roof to get decent reception. By the time he was back inside, he was exhausted from waiting, it was then he truly began to wait only for his sister's return.

\---

**P.O.F.**   
**Mabel Pines**

The road was deserted, save for Mabel and a few stray animals that she would stop to pet a few strokes before continuing to go on her way. Mabel was the kind of girl that smiled even in the face of danger, but the news report scared her in a way she was unfamiliar with, she was scared of death as opposed to a normal fear of injury. She hadn't seen the grisly details, having only heard bits of it on community radio, but the information they did give was enough to turn her stomach.

She always saw animals in a positive light, even when she had come to the inevitable understanding that animals have a different code of ethics than humans. She knew their instinct was more powerful than their morals (at least those that can be retained by an animal), but what bothered her was that according to how the animal attacked the victims-- the victims just _gave in_ to being torn to shreds. Mabel just could not understand why. She'd read a few books here and there about human psychology, and skimmed a book once about the social hierarchy and instincts of pack-oriented animals, and neither the animal attacking so close to civilization or the fact that the victims had no defensive wounds (according to the hearsay of the community radio host) made no logical sense. 

No matter how many what-if scenarios Mabel came up with on the way to "Granny" Lovett's house, they all hit a snag-- the inevitable possibility it was a supernatural so-called _Pines' Problem_ , and so it was up to her to tell Coraline and Wybie to keep their noses out of the investigation. Before Mabel had left, she and her brother spoke in quiet whispers for a few moments of possible theories and adjoining plans before Mabel volunteered to tell the young couple to not poke their nose in it-- it was the Pines' responsibility she would tell them-- but even to her, she didn't sound convincing enough. 

As Mabel rang the doorbell, she could hear the news from the television inside. She let out a quiet curse, bothered they had to hear it from the horse's mouth, the door simultaneously being opened by Ms. Lovett with a grim and concerned expression contorting her features. 

"Are you Mabel?" The woman asked.

When Mabel nodded, she let her in to the sight of Coraline sobbing into Wybie's shirt, while Wybie doing his best to hold himself together.

"Coraline," Mabel whispered, taking on a quieter tone than she intended. 

Coraline heard her regardless and stopped her squalls and replaced them with quiet, fast breaths, "I hoped I'd get away from all this. I expected quirky, small-town life-- not murder around every corner!"

Wybie cooed to her, "You don't need to worry about it, it's just an animal. It just needs to be found, and a park ranger or something can-"

"That's what I came to talk to you about, actually." Mabel murmured under her breath, finding Ms. Lovett already leaving the room under the pretense of 'bringing the kids some lemonade'. "My brother and I, based on what we've experienced here before, we think you two should lie low. We know you're not much younger than we are, but we know the area and we have connections that you two don't-- and we have an idea what we're up against. That being said, don't leave the house unless you have to and only take main roads, that means no shortcuts _whatsoever_. Okay? And _absolutely_ not after dark."

Wybie nodded, then looking to a nearby doorway, said to his grandmother, "You too, Granny, they know what they're talking about. They've dealt with bigger, right? So they can handle it."

Mabel could hear the lilt in his voice, the hopeful indication in his question; the hope that she would know how to handle things and that everything would be okay. The lack of guarantee that she and her brother could fix things unsettled her, forcing her to say her goodbyes prematurely with parting words similar to her brother's assurance to Norman of keeping in touch. They sounded hollow to her ears, as well as those at the Lovett residence. Reaching the street, she began her walk towards the center of town with its familiar corner stores and small diners.

However, on her walk back she did not expect the blast from the past which awaited her in the form of a girl with a young face covered in freckles, her mouth pursed around the straw of an iced coffee with a book in her other hand, holding the binding back behind the cover, leaning against the building with the ease and grace of a Romanesque statue. The hair was pulled back, out of her eyes, hair waving down as it reached the ends, sleeves rolled up to her elbows to expose a right forearm covered in a sleeve tattoo featuring trees and the word REMEMBER in bold, cursive handwriting. Mabel's smile betrayed her, as did the voice that called out the woman's name without taking another moment to take in the beautifully complacent form.

"Wendy!" 

The girl looked up with a smile, recognizing Mabel immediately, "How ya doin', kid?"

"Wow, you look amazing!" Mabel gushed, watching Wendy close her book and shove it in her back pocket. "Your hair is longer!"

"Yeah," Wendy smiled coyly, pulling a hair that had fallen from the loose ponytail at the nape of her neck to behind her ear. Her face seemed frozen in time, the exact same as when they had left save for a small scar that went in a white line across her chin. "You've really grown up, have you started dating yet?"

"Not really a concern," Mabel admitted, "What about you? Anyone interesting in your life?"

Wendy shrugged both shoulders aloofly, smiling, "Where's your brother at? He in Gravity Falls too?"

Mabel nodded, her mood dampening, suddenly remembering the animal attacks, "Yeah, our timing seems impeccable like always."

"You mean the bear attacks?" Wendy asked, "It's not a big deal, it'll get sorted out in a few days. My dad is one of the guys looking for it on the side, since he's worried about my brothers and I."

"Are they saying it's a bear?"

"Not really," Wendy admitted, "but it's not like we get a lot of wolves in this area this time of year. The deforestation in the area thanks to you-know-what was devastating, so the animal population slimmed down a bit. The supernatural stuff is still around though, although they hide a lot better. Actually, I saw a gnome the other day, I think it was the one that wanted to marry you that one time."

Mabel laughed, "Oh, don't remind me. If you want, though, you can come back with me to The Shack. We're actually thinking it's not an animal attack, it'd be helpful to have another head in on this that went through Weirdmageddon with us to help us figure this out."

"I don't know," Wendy sighed, biting her lip. "I was actually going to someone's house in an hour to touch base with them on something."

"It won't take long, please, Wendy; we need your help on this. It's dangerous and we need to know what we're up against."

Wendy nodded twice, patting her pants pockets to make sure she had her wallet, keys, and book before walking with Mabel back to the Mystery Shack. Dipper saw their eventual approach from above, simultaneously his heart raced and his stomach sank. His feelings for Wendy had definitely faded but the hurt from lack of contact he still felt with a vengeance. He met them at the door, opening it right as Mabel was going to knock.

"Oh, Dipper." Mabel uttered, flustered. "Looks like we're getting the band back together to figure this out."

"How much of the band? Just the main lineup or the entire ensemble?" Dipper grumbled, a poor attempt of a joke, before leading them to the kitchen.

"Speaking of," Wendy started, grabbing a pretzel log from the clear cookie jar nearby. "I don't know if you two know, but Pacifica left town ages ago. She's a gossip radio personality now out of Charlotte I think, Old Man McGucket _kicked_ the proverbial bucket, and Robby's been touring with the band for 6 months now. Meaning they're safe from this for now... Oh, where's the Gruncles? They around?"

Mabel nodded, "Should be here within the week, I don't think they know about all this yet, no way they really could, except maybe a letter from Soos."

"I left them a voicemail but no telling when they'll get it," Dipper sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Dipper caught himself staring at Wendy but brushed it off in favor of asking a question, "So, how serious are these attacks, exactly? I know what I've seen on TV looks bad but I want to know what you think about it. I know your dad is good friends with the Sheriff and the Deputies, you must've heard _something_ they aren't telling the public."

"Not really," Wendy admitted, "Only thing I know is that whatever this thing is, it's got them terrified. Dad said the way those people were torn apart was no coincidence, it was done practically the same way to every victim. They're hunting for it like mad, they say it should be found in the next week or so."

"So what are we talking here?" Mabel asked, saying aloud what they were all thinking. "A werewolf gone rogue or something? A wendigo? Maybe a minotaur with a beef?"

"Well it sure as hell seems like it, too coincidental to be overlooked as non-supernatural." Dipper whispered. "What are we gonna do about Soos? We're putting him in danger by being here and conspiring to stop that thing."

"Whatever we have to do to keep him safe." Wendy whispered, chewing the pretzel log thoughtfully. "I work as a secretary at the sheriff's department, so I'll go swipe the case files from the station. We need to get this thing dead and buried _fast,_ before it hurts someone else."

They all agreed silently in that moment that they would take care of whatever was in those woods, whether it was animal, cryptid, monster, _or_ human. 

Suddenly, Dipper's phone rang and he excused himself to answer it, leaving the girls alone.

"Dipper," Norman insisted over the phone, "whatever you guys are doing, I want in. I can't ignore this anymore."

Dipper had an excuse to tell him no on the tip of his tongue, but ignored it. "Why?"

"What happened to my town years ago... people got really hurt. I can help you guys and I have to, otherwise, if anyone else gets hurt while I'm cowering in a corner, I'll blame myself. I have to help. Dipper, _please_."

Dipper sighed after a moment, "Well, get over here, then. We've got a lot of ground to cover."


	6. Into the Woods (to Find Hyleoroi)

Norman was shellshocked; he didn't expect Dipper to agree so readily, so when he did-- he found himself at a loss for words.

"Really?" Norman asked, brain slowly shifting back into gear.

" _Yeah_ , Norman-" Dipper was leaning towards exasperation, "get over here. Bring the van if it's not too much trouble, we may need to go visit... some old friends." Dipper said with a tint of irritation before a sound in the background caused Dipper to utter a quick, "Hold on, Norman-- What, Wendy? Oh, okay. Good idea. So, Norm, nevermind about the van; Wendy said she can go home and get her truck and she can take us all to the course."

"The course?"

"Long story, uhm..." Dipper sighed, "I'll explain when we get there. I hope you are of the _open-minded_ sort."

"Have to say I am," Norman grinned a little, then his face fell when he looked at the door to Greg's room. "I'll wait on the porch, on the railing."

"Be there in about a half hour, and I don't know how long we'll be out so bring some stuff to eat and drink, a jacket, whatever you need. Tell Wirt it may be a while, but to call you if he gets worried. I'll keep our phones charged. See you in a bit." With that, Dipper hung up.

The abrupt end to the phone call left Norman in a daze as he explained the situation to Wirt (who was less than pleased that his cousin was digging into such a dangerous situation, but respected his cousin's judgement). Wirt reluctantly agreed to let Norman go as long as he kept Wirt updated. And so, Norman Babcock packed a backpack filled with a few sandwiches, a couple bottles of water, his phone, a spare set of clothes, his multitool, and his handheld camcorder that he always kept in his pocket (should a perfect filming moment arise).

 _Always the boy scout_ , he could hear in his mother's voice whenever she'd see Norman overpacking for the sake of preparedness.

 _Probably would've made a good one if he had actually signed up like I told him to and stopped watching those crappy b-movies and went outside once in a while,_ his father always muttered back to her.

Norman always pretended he couldn't hear them.

...

When Norman was saying his goodbyes to Greg, he heard the front door of the inn open and shut; quiet words were exchanged, so quiet, that Norman only caught a bit of it before he left Greg's room to meet the girl in the lounge. The girl's voice, which he now realized could only be Wendy's, caused him to edge closer quietly so he could hear them better.

"--well I have been thinking about it and--" A female voice spoke quietly, then drifted off with the breeze through the windows, her words faded in and out with the gusts of soft wind.

"Yeah, I know, it was a dumb idea but what else could I do? You know... with--" Wirt's voice was clearer but lowered when he realized he was speaking too loudly to be considered a whisper.

"He's hot on the trail, what do you expect me to do? Play it off?"

"Well, how about you decide--" Wirt's voice cut short when he saw Norman rounding the corner. Wirt's expressionless face became a smile, "There's a Wendy here for you, she says the twins are already outside. "

Norman nodded, adjusting the backpack strap on his shoulder before acknowledging Wendy with a nod, catching the last few words between the two as he opened the screen door leading outside.

"This conversation isn't over." Wirt whispered emphatically, bordering on anger.

"Same to you, _Wart_." Wendy whispered pointedly, tapping his arm with her palm before following behind Norman.

Norman felt the tension and weight in the air lessen as they got in the truck, squished against Dipper's side. He decided that due to the atmosphere in the room from before, he would not bring up what happened inside the house.

"You know my cousin?" Norman asked.

"Yeah," was Wendy's only answer, followed by the action of her turning up the radio.

No one in the car spoke a word, or even sang along to the music, until they reached their destination. They each were lost in their own separate inner turmoils besides the threat of a murderer on the loose.

...

"Why are we at a mini golf course?" Norman asked with genuine concern as they all poured out of the car and headed towards the abandoned entrance. 

"I hate to say it, but this is the only source I have that doesn't want to kill us that also happened to get ahold of a cell phone." Dipper admitted, "Just so you know, this is where that open-mindedness I mentioned before comes into play."

"If you say so," Norman said quietly to himself, watching in awe as Wendy cut the padlock off the gate with bolt cutters.

The sound of the lock falling didn't surprise Norman as much as the complete lack of reaction to the situation was. The thought of the event Mabel had mentioned before, Weirdmaggedon, made Norman wonder if the event had really desensitized the twins to potentially-criminal activity. Norman didn't realise, but his heart began to beat faster in excitement and anticipation, he missed the action that event with the witch had thrust upon him.

Yet, despite the minor deterioration of the golf course, cobwebs, and its overgrown landscaping-- it looked almost exactly the same to the Pines twins. Dipper took out his phone, dialed a number, and began to follow the sound of a ringing phone to its source. Wendy, making an excuse to see if there were any noteworthy vending machines to break into, left the three to their work. Mabel was the first to introduce Norman to the Lilliputtians as she let them know it was safe to come out. Crawling out of their respective holes, the small creatures stood before the three teens in droves. Their respective costumes remained the same but were caked with a thin layer of dust on each of them. 

"A _Norman_ , hm? Why'd you bring an outsider, Pineses?" An older Lilliputtian asked, using a golf tee as a steadying cane. Norman wordlessly associated this particular 'Puttian as a real life equivalent of Gollum.

"If I had known about the course closing, we would have asked better questions about the murders going on. Either way, you must know something about what is happening here."

"If you had visit, you would know more than you do now. " a younger Lilliputtian pouted. 

Norman caught sight of a dark look in Dipper's eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, Mabel spoke before Dipper could manage a response. "We had a lot going on at home, we wanted to come but we couldn't."

Dipper's eyes lowered to the ground as he slipped his hands into his pockets, "Regardless, we need intel on this. Suggestions would be helpful, seeing as you aren't giving us much to go on."

The young 'Puttian who spoke up before raised a small pointing finger in the direction to the east woods, "Find the nymph Hyle, she is the watcher of the woods-- she sees all. She may be your best chance at a beginning to the thread you must unravel."

"Hi-lee?" Dipper asked, "Am I saying that right? Anyway, how did I not hear about her from Grunkle-"

The young 'Puttian scoffed, "Yes, Hyle; you did not read about her in the journal because she is a Watcher, Pines. She does not interfere with humans, let alone make herself known to them, she merely oversees the care of the woods. However, I believe she will make an exception just this once considering the grave nature of the situation. Bring to her a small natural offering that speaks to you and place it at the base of a tree beside the brook, she may come to you if she feels your intentions are sincere."

Mabel immediately ran in the direction where Wendy had gone, the two boys scarcely thanking the 'Puttians before chasing after Mabel. When they caught up to her she was excitedly telling Wendy that she had been right as a child, that nymphs did exist. Wendy smiled as Mabel reiterated the conversation Wendy had missed while the redhead had been kicking an old vending machine in hopes of getting the only snack left within it- a package of peanut butter crackers. Wendy ate said crackers as Mabel spoke.

"Well alright, then," Wendy wiped off her mouth with her hand. "Let's get this show pony on the road, we can look for offerings on the way to the brook. It's almost a mile walk from the entrance to the woods."

Wendy closed the gate entrance as Norman and Dipper jumped into the truck bed while Mabel choose to sit in the cab with Wendy. Once Wendy had gotten into the truck and left the parking lot, Norman asked Dipper why he wanted them to sit in the back away from the girls.

"Norman, did that freak you out at all? The Lilliputtians, I mean."

"Considering Mabel mentioned something on the bus about her boyfriend turning out to be a bunch of gnomes, I don't know what I expected. Honestly, I didn't know if you guys were telling the truth about that Weirdmaggedon thing... but I can feel pain when I pinch my arm, so here we are. I have no doubts you were telling the truth now, and on top of that creatures I thought didn't exist apparently do in numbers large enough to have their own census- and I am not that freaked out." He paused, clicking his tongue. "Surprisingly."

Dipper nodded, "That's good. Good... so you're still on board?"

"I've dealt with the weird side of things before. I'd believe in almost anything." Norman's tone and body language betrayed his apprehensiveness.

"What do you mean?" Dipper asked, confused.

Norman opened his mouth to speak when he saw an unfamiliar spirit standing beside the road as they sped past. Face bare, head shaved, the phantom man stood wordlessly Norman's mouth closed and a petulant frown crossed his features, "Maybe another time."

Norman pulled his knees to his chest, laying his face on his knees and exhaling softly. Dipper sighed but did not press the subject, pulling on the ends of his own hair.

Dipper watched in frustration as Norman's eyes seemed to monologue silently, imperceivable words projected in them. Dipper missed being a kid where no one his age had the capacity for abstract or complex emotions; relationships, friendships, and kinships all seemed so much easier in the days where thoughts were spoken aloud and made apparent. He missed the simplicity (borderline monotony) of it all, because now everything seemed too fragile and high maintenance. The thought of his parents almost crossed his mind before he squelched the thought with what he may want to bring as an offering.

Realizing he was overthinking the situation, Norman turned his thoughts away from whether or not to tell Dipper his past and knocked on the window of the cab. He watched as the girls paused their conversation for Mabel to open the window slide.

"What's up, Norman?" Mabel asked.

"The Weirdmaggedon thing you were talking about on the bus, could you tell me the story?" Norman asked, eyes not pointedly avoiding Dipper's but instinctively.

"Dipper can tell you more than I could. Like I said on the bus, I was in a fantasy world for a lot of it, Dipper can tell you more." Mabel looked to Dipper who stared off into the distance, "Dip, can you tell Norman about Weirdmaggedon?"

Dipper shrugged, looking to Wendy, "Do we have enough distance to do story time?"

Wendy shook her head, "Now isn't the time, we got more pressing matters to attend to. Do it on the drive back to the Shack, that drive should suffice."

Dipper nodded, exhaling sharply, "You heard her."

Norman muttered a 'sure' under his breath in disappointment as they neared their destination.

...

After the truck was parked and they all stood at the entrance to the trail, a sense of foreboding fell upon the group. This sense of foreboding was not due entirely to the sound of birds making noises akin to screaming from the depths of the woods, but the sound surely added to the uneasy vibe the group was feeling. Dipper was the first to step onto the sloping path, sidestepping slowly downward to avoid falling. He motioned to the others, each taking a turn to make it down safely. Wendy cleared her throat after a short silence.

"No one really goes in this part of the woods anymore, most of the trails got washed out in the big flood but if my memories of Gryffin Scouts are correct then the brook should be in this direction, then we take a right around the abandoned hut and should be close by there." 

"Gryffin Scouts?" Norman asked, "Is that like Eagle Scouts or something?"

"Kinda," Wendy shrugged, walking behind with Norman as the twins plowed ahead. "Gravity Falls created the Gryffin Scouts as a co-ed experience to mix the principles of the two. The mayor back in the 80s couldn't stand that we didn't have a local boy or girl scouts troop that was balanced in teachings- equal parts survival training and homemaking skills- so he made his own. Eventually the other troops all died out after they joined the Gryffins, and the rest is history."

"What are some of the things you learned in Scouts?" Norman asked, picking up a rock that he spotted on the ground broken perfectly in two halves. The rock seemed to call to him, not realizing how tightly he clenched it in his fist.

"Well, we learned cartography, sewing, cooking with minimal ingredients, astronomy, self-defense fighting, and other things like that."

Wendy watched the twins look high and low for an offering, then noticed Norman watching his broken rock thoughtfully in his hand.

"Seems you already found one that spoke to you," Wendy said aloud, "why that?"

"I don't know," Norman admitted, "I felt like I saw myself in it somehow... Maybe I'm just partial to broken things."

Norman said the last sentence with a flatness in his voice, but his face changed when he realized he'd said it aloud. The air thickened and silence fell between the two, Norman picked up his pace and paced closely behind the twins who now each had an item in their hands. Mabel had a wildflower, multicolored and beautiful with hidden thorns along its stem; Dipper had a piece of bark that had a perfectly circular hole the size of a dime in its center.

Wendy pulled her hair back into a ponytail as her thoughts turned to her conversation with Wirt: how much did Norman know? But more importantly, what would he do about it if he knew? The last thing the situation needed would be someone interfering at such a delicate time.

Wendy's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a butterfly, a stunning blue and was right before her eyes. She reached out her hands and captured it between her palms, careful to avoid squishing its fragile body. The walk to the brook seemed to go by quickly once they reached the abandoned building. They stopped to sit on the porch covered in ivy, all taking a moment to rest.

Norman opened his bag and ate a sandwich, Dipper asked for one, which Norman gladly gave him. The break passed in what seemed like peaceful moments, despite the vastness of the woods. When they proceeded to move again, it was Mabel who spoke first.

"So, Norman," Mabel started, taking care to tread carefully on the uneven ground. "You go to school with us, right? I think a friend of mine has film class with you, she mentioned having a partner named Norman so I guess that was you, huh? She said you two did a ghost mockumentary."

"Oh, yeah, Maxine... it was her idea. I just filmed it, found the location, and did the editing." Norman insisted, "She acted in it, wrote the script, made props; I just had to show up."

"That's not what she had told me," Mabel grinned, eyeing Norman behind her. "She said you made her look like a real person. She said she didn't take it seriously but you turned it into something totally sincere."

Norman blushed, smiling to himself, "Well, I had a lot of free time."

"Did you compose the music too?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I did put in a few guitar plucks and piano notes that I recorded at the Music Emporium. I'm not very good at playing instruments but I didn't want there to be silence. There wasn't much sound in the building we recorded in." Norman's smile softened at the memory, "It was the first time someone chose me at a partner instead of 'ending up' with me. I've never been good at making the first move for that kind of thing."

"Really?" Dipper asked, to which Norman let out a quiet affirmation.

Wendy stopped ahead of them, her shoulders tensed, "Guys, I think we're here."

They all stood at the brook, a beautiful tree next to the bank with large white flowers growing on its branches. One after the other, the group placed their trinkets at the foot of the tree.

After a few moments of silence, an ethereal silhouette emerged from the trunk of the tree. Although seemingly sexless- her skin with the texture and colored patchwork of bark, hair of leaves, and eyes like sightless opal- she had curves in places to suggest her feminine nature. Her thin fingers reached out as she bent to retrieve the offerings from the forest floor, her hair-like greenery falling in front of her face as she inspected the objects in her hand.

Hyle looked to Wendy first, her voice airy with the calm of the brook that seemed to surround them. "Of all the things you could have brought, I find your choice very telling, Miss."

"Why do you say that?" Wendy asked, watching the nymph's smile with suspicion.

"You have chosen to ensnare a thing of innocence and beauty and brought it to me as a gift. You too, young lady," Hyle turned to Mabel. "You have doomed the life of that flower for a moment of savoring it's beauty. I find it very naive of you two, if not sad that you do not cherish more-"

"I do!" Mabel blurted as Wendy watched her boots in shame, "I do cherish it, but I know that I felt a connection with this flower. This one. So I bring it to you as a reflection of myself, because I know that I am sacrificing something I love and offering it to you as a show of good faith. So you can understand where we're coming of when we ask our favor of you."

"Before that," Hyle smiled, impressed, then she turned her attention to the boys, "Dipper, you brought a piece of bark with a hole for the eye to see. Is there something you wish to see more clearly? Never you mind, young man, you will know in time once you listen to the sounds around you."

Dipper had the expression you would expect, one of impatience at the stalling, but did not speak up in favor of respect.

"Norman, what a curious boy... Now, ask me what you wish to ask. I can see you are in need to know, and your friends seem ready to take action."

Norman took a shaky breath before looking into her white eyes, "The murders happening, the deaths, what do you know about them?"

Hyle's expression darkened as her voice took on an edge of warning, "The beast that stalks the woods of Gravity Falls, it is new and not native to this land. For that reason it is especially dangerous, do not seek out the beast if you value your lives."

"We don't have the option," Wendy piped up. "Have you seen it? How can we get rid of it?"

"It runs on four legs with teeth like daggers and claws the length of your hand, and its eyes are black as a moonless night, it howls as if it is in dire pain. If you choose to pursue this beast, know that you are choosing to risk your life." Hyle spoke quietly, her voice sharp.

Mabel looked at her brother, sharing a look before looking directly into the eyes of the Nymph and smiled in confidence, "I don't know about Norman or Wendy, but we Pines twins never back down from a fight."

"I'm not backing out now," Wendy defended, crossing her arms.

"Me either," Norman sighed, "Now, no offence... but if we're done, we should head back. It's going to get dark by the time we get back to town."

"You're right," Dipper turned to Hyle and bowed slightly, hoping it expressed his respect thoroughly enough. "Thank you, Hyle, we really appreciate your help. Hopefully we'll be able to take care of it and spare the lives of others in town, stay safe."

"You too, young ones. May fate smile upon you, in spite of what lies ahead." Hyle's final words a whisper as she bonded herself back to her tree.

"Is it just me or did that sound really foreboding?" Dipper asked.

"Don't think about it too much, let's get back before it gets dark." Wendy urged, jogging ahead as the others followed suit.


	7. The Unseen and Ever-Present Danger (Is Upon Us)

"You should go home, Norman." Dipper huffed as they climbed up the hill to the trail exit. "All this 'beast' talk is making me wonder if we should keep you out of this."

Norman's expression quickly turned to anger, " _Oh._ _ **I**_ _see."_

Mabel shook her head, uncomfortable, and Wendy grimaced bracing herself with a mental ' _Aw, man... here we go_ '.

"So I'm some _child_ now that needs to be relocated to the kids' table? _Really_ , Dipper?" Norman was indignant, not bothering to hide the irritation in his tone. His arms were stretched out fully from his sides, palms up. "I don't get it-- the last I checked, we're the same age! More importantly, I thought we were on the same team here-- why are you trying to push me out of this!?"

Dipper's face turned red, then he proceeded to shout loud enough that it echoed a second or two in the woods around them, "Goddamn it, Norman, we could _**DIE**_ doing this, you know?!"

There was a quietness, but for only a few moments.

Norman's face softened for a second, realizing he was out of line, before his face turned stoic, "I _know_ that, Dipper. I do. This isn't the first time I've come face-to-face with death, you know? I'm not afraid to die, Dipper. Really, I'm not... At least if I died trying to save people from whatever this thing-- person-- is, at least I can say I did something worth the risk."

Mabel exhaled, roughly pushing past the two boys with an uncharacteristically dark expression, "Get moving, we don't have time to fight. Fight in the truck."

Dipper watched his sister with a look of shame before following her wordlessly. She was right, they had no time to waste. As they all piled into the truck, all but Norman in the cab, Norman pulled on the hem of Dipper's shirt as the Pines boy tried to step up into the truck.

"I'm staying at the Shack, Wirt and Greg are safer without me around anyway." Norman muttered loud enough only for Dipper to hear.

Dipper nodded slowly, "Your choice, Norm."

With that, Norman put his foot on the back wheel and climbed in the truck bed, sitting quietly in the corner behind the driver's seat. The truck had gone a few miles when Dipper opened the back window of the truck, looking at Norman as the boy watched the passing sidewalks with an empty gaze.

"Do you still wanna know about Weirdmageddon?" Dipper asked, roughly, as if he regretted opening his mouth.

"Yeah..." Norman nodded, voice distant. "please."

**_..._ **

After the story, Norman got an irritated look on his face, slamming his fist on the side of the truck beside him. It resonated with a loud, metallic thud.

"Whoa, Norm, what's wrong?" Dipper asked, confused by the teen's sudden outburst after his complete silence during the story.

"Hyle.... I just realized it... She never told us how to kill that THING, just said it was dangerous-- so we basically just wasted the trip." Norman huffed, running his fingers through his unruly spikes.

"Not for nothing," Dipper offered, "at least we know what we're looking for."

"Do we, Dipper? I mean... how do we know how to kill something if we don't even know for sure what it is?" Norman asked, exhaling sharply. "I gotta check my cell, tell Wirt where I'm going..."

Dipper nodded, "In the mean time, I'll call Coraline and Wybie to give them a head's up."

While the boys were occupied with their calls, Mabel leaned her cheek against Wendy's shoulder to whisper so she wouldn't be heard, "That outburst earlier, that was unexpected, right?"

Wendy nodded stiffly, eyes focused on the road, "Yeah, did what Norman said about 'coming face to face with death before' bother you too?"

"I don't want to presume but he made it sound almost like he, you know, was bad off at some point, or something... if you get what I mean."

"I don't think that's what he meant, Mabel. It sounded more... out of his control than that. I don't know, everybody's got a story, maybe his is like ours... odd." Wendy offered, looking down the dirt road for the turn off to Main Street.

"You're probably right," Mabel nodded, sighing, "I'm probably just projecting."

...

As Wendy pulled up to the Mystery Shack, everyone but Wendy got out of the truck. They stood in a line waiting to send her off.

"I'm headed to the sheriff station to see if I can nab those files, I'll be back in the morning. Sleep well, guys. You'll need every second of that rest." Wendy told them, leaning toward the passenger side window to be heard more clearly. Dipper watched Wendy and felt unsure, felt nervous with the lurking danger and her not being nearby.

As if reading Dipper's expression, Wendy smiled, "Don't worry, Dipper. I still live with my dad... and he sleeps with a double-sided axe. I'll be fine."

Wendy drove off, leaving the three behind to walk inside and lock all the doors for the night. When they finished, they met Soos and Melody at the table as the couple ate, finally between whispered exchanges the three agreed that they deserved to know. 

"Soos," Mabel started, then felt a lump rise in her throat, "Melody, we're going after the thing, person, whatever, killing these people in Gravity Falls and we all agreed you deserve to know."

"Thanks for telling us-" Soos started, his wife interrupting him with a touch of her hand on his.

"We're staying here, this is our home, so as long as you don't bring that stuff home with you, we will continue to support you three." Melody was firm, but empathetic, "I know it's a lot to ask of three teenagers, but please, don't bring other people into this dangerous situation you're putting yourselves into. Try to keep this separate from us, okay?"

  
Norman did not know the couple, so tried to not feel overwhelmingly offended at the selfish request but just nodded with the twins before following them up to their room. All the old decorations from their time before still there, names etched on the bed posts. Noticing the names made Norman smile a little.

"So this is our room," Mabel explained. "We'd split up but, since the extra room will be taken by our Gruncles when they get here, it's best to go ahead and settle in. Besides, it's safer in numbers."

"This is real life, Mabel," Dipper sighed, getting an extra pillow and blanket from the closet. "Not a horror movie."

"Dipper, our life is the equivalent of a Twilight Zone and X-Files love-child, who are _you_ kidding?" Mabel countered, making Norman snort with laughter as he tried to muffle the sound with his palm.

"Touché." Dipper smiled a little, handing Norman the blanket and pillow, "If you don't mind, we'll be sharing the bed again-- although this one is a bit smaller. Beats the alternative of sleeping alone downstairs on the couch though, with everything that's going on."

To that, Norman agreed, "It's fine, so did you guys want to sleep now?"

Mabel yawned, stretching, "Early to bed, early to rise, I'll go ahead to sleep. You two stay up if you want, I'll put my headphones in."

Norman climbed onto the bed with the pillow and throw blanket, scooting against the wall before lying down and wriggling to find a comfortable position. Mabel got in her bed, put her phone on airplane mode and proceeded to put the headphones in her ears before turning to face the wall.

Dipper turned out the light as he stood by the switch, climbing into the bed before he lied on his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Hey, Dipper?" Norman whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I overheard Wendy and Mabel earlier... when I was talking about death did you think I meant-?"

"No," Dipper crossed his arms, not looking to find Norman beside him. The topic always made him uncomfortable, in fact, he always wanted to avoid it unless the conversation was absolutely necessary. "I didn't think you meant anything by it."

"It did mean something," Norman responded cryptically, "but not that..."

After a short silence, Norman scooted close on his side, his shoulder touching Dipper's as he faced Dipper who turned his head slightly, looking up at Norman, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Can I tell you something in confidence? Something you promise you won't tell anyone?" Norman asked.

"Sure, what is it?" Dipper asked hesitantly, usually it was after a promise was made that you wish you'd said no. However, this was not the case this time.

"I wanna tell you my story. You had Weirdmageddon, Coraline and Wy had Beldam, let me tell you my story." Norman whispered, Dipper gaining interest, a smile even grew onto the Pines boy's face. "But the best preface to give you, because it will come up later in the story so I don't need to interrupt myself later, is that I see ghosts. All of them. Not just sometimes. I see them everywhere I go, even in public bathrooms." Norman shivered at one particular disconcerting memory but moved along, " Anyway... So, it was close to the celebration of--"

And so Norman began to tell his story to Dipper who hung on every word, and unintentionally to Mabel-- who had yet to turn on her music-- overhearing everything.

**_...._ **

As the story wound down, Dipper had a complex expression as he processed the story.

"So when you said you're used to bruises... it's because you were bullied." Dipper muttered.

"Yeah," Norman whispered, voice only half-there.

"And when you said you weren't afraid to die..." Dipper asked, waiting for clarification.

"It's because lately I feel lost-- useless, I guess-- and it feels like I don't really hold any worth to anyone, or even myself, lately. It's hard. Sure, I help a couple souls find peace every now and then but other than that where will I end up? A starving-artist type, who's fate resembles that of a half-assed Tim Burton knock-off?"

"So you're scared?" Dipper asked, adjusting his arms tighter across his chest.

"Yeah, Dip." Norman uttered, halfway derisive, "I'm scared. I'm freaking _terrified_. That's why I am foaming at the mouth to pitch myself into a near-death situation so I may _hopefully_ feel a grain of purpose again. That's the truth."

"I'm sorry," Dipper sighed. "If I had known your reasons, I wouldn't have been so hard on you. I feel... empty, you know... without having the rush of having death hang like a cloud over my head. It's making me force myself to live day to day without a purpose. I feel the same way you do, Norm."

Dipper began again, his voice suddenly shaking quietly. "Except, I'm so angry. I direct it at anyone and everything because I miss it. As much as I hated fearing for my life, I have never been so close to my sister or felt so _alive_. I can see it in her eyes sometimes, you know... I can see her mind working, thinking she's losing me. Things got really hard for me after Bill disappeared; my grades, social life, hobbies, even my relationship with my folks all tanked. I was drowning, but my sister flourished. Where I suddenly feared for what was around every corner, my sister welcomed it with open arms and was unafraid because she felt the Pines twins were invincible... but I'm the weak link."

Norman reached out to touch Dipper's shoulder, "Have you tried talking to your sister?"

"She probably knows, she knows me better than I know myself. She just doesn't know how to deal with me anymore. Maybe we fell too far apart, I guess." Dipper turned from his side to his back, watching the ceiling again.

Norman turned away from Dipper to face the wall after minutes of dead silence. Dipper turned onto his stomach, his eyes lingering on his sister before eventually falling asleep.

Mabel, awake only through part of Norman's retelling of his story (she fell asleep roughly around the time Norman had gotten around to the part about meeting Neil the first time), remained sound asleep.

Norman watched the wall as the chips in paint seemed to become a blurring story being told to him, a story that made less sense the more he watched it. He blinked a few times in the darkness, remembering the figure he'd seen at the side of the road. It was obviously a different spirit than the one he'd seen on the outside of the Bluebird's property.

This one, unlike the previous ghost, did not seem to be torn apart. Due to ghosts retaining the form they had upon death, the female spirit he saw was most likely a manifestation that happened to be a previous victim of whatever beast they were currently chasing, brutally torn to shreds; while the man was fully intact, as far as Norman could tell.

The man was bald and seemed old but because of the lack of facial hair on his head and face Norman could only guess his age based on the wrinkles that lined his face. He was at least sixty years old, that much Norman was sure of, but he couldn't say much more than that since he'd only seen that one in passing and didn't exactly get a very good look.

At this point in his ruminating, it became very apparent to Norman that whatever they were dealing with was way above the witch's-zombie-curse paygrade, although he still didn't understand the sense of foreboding that he just couldn't shake. He almost considered waking Dipper up, then decided it's be better off if they all just got their much-needed rest. After all, they had a big day ahead of them tomorrow and they needed to be at the top of their game.

Done devoting his thought to the sinking feeling in his gut, Norman wondered how possible it could be to cast a seal of protection on the Shack from spirits; the last thing Norman needed was interference from a spirit with an attitude problem. He had just dealt with one earlier on in the year and it lead to a big fiasco at his new school.

It's hard enough being a new kid the last couple months into the year without having a screaming match with (what looked to normal people) as an old, bronze statue head of the school's founder (but was actually an old janitor for the school who had attached himself to the statue as his own kind of revenge against the founder, but I digress, that is a different story entirely).

Norman assumed they didn't know this story, and assumed correctly; Dipper did not hear this story as he was not privy to the school's gossip, and Mabel never made the connection because she tended to care less about school gossip and more about keeping updated with upcoming flicks and television shows. Norman, on the other hand, possessed inate instincts that come with being a wallflower, these instincts made it easy for him to gather information that others might overlook.

For instance, Dipper ate his lunch in the auditorium usually with a turkey sandwich in one hand and a pen in the other, typically doing what seemed to be maths homework. Mabel ate outside with her group of 8-12 friends.

...

The first week Norman arrived at the new school, he found solace in the theatre class that ignored him on stage, the first day he holed up within the auditorium, he was joined by Dipper who sat in the center seat in the middle row, crossing his right ankle over his left thigh as he used his leg as a prop to hold his notebook and homework. This particular seat was a staple to Dipper's daily school routine, he never waivered.

Norman's seat was in the back row, the row closed off on both sides as though it were boxing him in, the rest of the room a square he could only see the middle row and stage from. He recognized Dipper from class, and considered approaching him but decided against it.

The first week of school came and left as he went there every day, every day telling himself he could talk to Dipper, he could befriend him, but by the second week he moved from the auditorium to eating outside in the courtyard, sitting on a set of steps to the inside lobby, covered by an overhang. He was able to read his book easier outside in the natural lighting, but was on edge as movement constantly wound around him as the different lunch periods let out and returned to classes.

He stayed at this spot 3 school days before axeing the idea all together, and instead stayed in the classroom of his next period. The teacher only asked him once what Norman was doing there.

"I'm not hungry." Norman muttered, absorbed in his book.

The teacher never asked again, but occasionally left a granola bar at Norman's desk before he arrived for lunch. Norman always smiled in thanks when he left them, eating as he read. The teacher was not much of a talker, even during class instruction relying a lot of visual aid and slides to keep things moving, the class spoke individually when spoken to. Norman likened the teacher's demeanor to a Tommy Lee Jones-eque sympathetic figure, a person who cared but did not feel the need to bend over backward to show it, just preferred to keep his intentions clear only to those who paid attention. Perhaps he would be there if you needed a listening ear, but a request for advice would lead to silence. He admired the teacher who, in a way, reminded him of his grandmother in her unyielding honesty to a fault and her quiet affection.

...

From his seat in various classes, on a few occassions he heard the whispers of kids about a girl, Mabel Pines in particular. Norman had not made the connection until that moment, Mabel was the girl he had heard about. As he stared at the wall, he remembered their quiet praises:

"Did you see Mabel Pines today? Looks like she made a new sweater, do you think she'd make me one?"

...

"I heard Mabel Pines got a hundred percent on the pop quiz in Ms. Eileen's class, she and like one other person were the only ones who passed."

...

"Is Mabel here today?"

"No, just her brother."

"I wanted to partner with her for the art project, she always does so well on those."

"I have her number, just text her and ask if she doesn't mind."

"She said she's already got a partner."

"It's not her brother is it?"

"Nah, she said they don't have any classes together anymore. If they were, though, no one would ever get to be her partner."

...

Norman's stomach churned as he remembered, his thoughts turning to Dipper who always seemed alone. It dawned upon him slowly that he was alienating himself from his classmates too, just like Dipper was, but Norman hoped that by the end of the summer, he could find himself with two more friends. Norman's eyes eventually fell closed and he fell asleep with hopes that he would wake the next morning.

...

Norman blinked, darkness still meeting his eyes as he opened them, he could hear odd sounds and as he turned over he could see Dipper with his mouth hanging open with his eyes shot wide. Norman shot up in bed, nearly knocking into Dipper who was whimpering and watching something in front of him with horror. Norman squinted his eyes desperately in the darkness but saw nothing. His heart lept into his throat as he watched the muscles twitch violently in Dipper's hands.

Norman, grabbed Dipper roughly by the shoulders in despiration and shook him gently as he could in his frantic state, "Dipper! Dipper! DIPPER!"


	8. The Mystery Kids (Are On the Case)

The closer that Norman got to Dipper's face, the more he could see. As he reached over and pulled a cord to turn on a small desk lamp he saw how Dipper's eyes blinked violently, his eyes unfocused. Norman didn't sense any paranormal happenings, nor did he see any obvious signs of possession. He took a few breaths to steel himself and began leaning Dipper up, holding onto his arms. He was much more equiped for the paranormal; the mundane was unfamiliar territory.

"Dipper," he muttered quietly, trying to rub circles on his friend's elbows. He'd read somewhere that a grounding touch could bring someone out of a night terror but this was his first time watching one firsthand. It scared the shit out of him; to see Dipper's eyes open, and yet not be _there,_ but the situation seemed almost managable compared to a paranormal problem.

Suddenly, there was the sound of heavy footfalls bounding up the stairs, finally responding to Norman's yells.

Dipper began calming, blinking more slowly as his vision came into focus. Dipper's open mouth, which had been dripping with drool in his fugue, began to close. Dipper began swallowing normally, albeit manually, still dazed when Mabel began waking up, taking out her headphones without bothering to pause the song, and moving to their bedside as Soos watched from afar.

"Night terror," Norman told the two, focusing on Dipper and keeping his hands on the boy's elbows, rubbing small circles on them with his thumbs as Dipper began to regain himself.

"N... Norman. I saw-... Bill... I was reliving my possession. " Dipper supplied, leaning his forehead on Norman's shoulder as he tried to force himself to breathe steady. "It was awful... It was like I was feeling it all over again. The sensation of spiders under my skin... The burning behind my eyes... His voice in my head... I thought I was over it..."

Mabel sat beside Dipper then, wrapping an arm around him to hug him, "You don't just _get over_ that, Dipper. It's not possible. I have my own share of nightmares, it's not always as easy as just getting over it..."

Soos spoke, "If you dudes want, I can sleep up here on the floor with you."

Dipper shook his head slowly, his throat dry, "Thank you, but I'll be okay. I just... need to go back to sleep."

Norman eyed Dipper with suspicion, but Mabel just nodded, giving her brother a brief and tight hug before returning to her bed, opting to not listen to music in her sleep this time. Mabel wanted to be able to wake up easily, just in case.

Soos left begrudgingly, not closing the door all the way. He opted to sleep in the room down the hall for the rest of the night to soothe his worries about Dipper.

Norman left the bedside lamp on, moving back to his position with his face against the wall, the coolness calming him some. His heart still beat rapidly in his chest, scared on behalf of Dipper as well as the whole situation itself. He steadied his breathing as his breath hit the wall and warmed his face.

He had nearly forgotten this part about the incident in Blithe Hollow. He had forgotten that beyond the excitement, danger never left you alone- even when you tried to sleep. This danger felt like eyes in the darkness, feeling them watching you, but unable to see them; much too scared to turn on the light and reveal your suspicions to be correct.

Norman's daze was halted when he felt a shaky hand tugging lightly at the end of his shirt. Norman turned over to see Dipper near tears. Norman never really learned how to soothe the crying of someone other than himself, so the shock showed easily though he tried to hide it. Even more so, Norman appreciated the trust Dipper showed by allowing himself to be vulnerable, but Norman kept these thoughts to himself.

"I'm sorry Norm, I don't wanna weird you out but... I just-" Dipper whispered apprehensively, hoping his sister wouldn't hear him welling up. "I k-keep seeing his face and my eyes, what I did... I just-"

Norman merely turned to face Dipper, scooting himself closer. Dipper, reaching out a hand and gripping the end of Norman's shirt, felt almost grounded in the reality in the feeling of the cotton material. The material wound up in Dipper's white-knuckled grip pulled the shirt at an odd angle. Norman was unable to notice the sharp crescent nail marks Dipper left on his own enclosed fist.

"I'm here," Norman whispered. "I'm here..." he yawned, "You're okay. You're good, Dip. He's gone."

Dipper felt his breath hitch occasionally as he forced air to and from his lungs, but he held the tears back, nodding. The whole thing with Bill had been traumatizing; he'd had nightmares about Bill off and on since Weirdmageddon, but not nearly as bad as the night terror he just experienced. He could only think it had to do with coming back to Gravity Falls.

"Don't think less of me," Dipper whispered.

"Shut up," Norman muttered wrapping an arm around Dipper and putting his head against the boy's shoulder, "Trauma is nothing to be ashamed of. Hold on if you need to. I know it'd be weird if you tried to with Mabel. It's okay. You're my friend. I want you to feel safe." Norman stifled a yawn as he spoke, voice thick with sleep.

"You sure?" Dipper asked, the memory of those years ago- looking in the mirror and seeing yellow eyes in his reflection- making his fingers shake.

"Yeah, Dip. It's not weird. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?" Norman whispered near Dipper's ear.

Dipper tried to get comfortable with Norman's arm holding him close, having to squeeze closer so Norman's arm would reach. Dipper really noticed Norman's height now, how Dipper was nearly a head taller if you didn't include Norman's hair. He curled up a little to get more comfortable, eyes slowly getting heavy.

"Norman?"

"Yeah, Dip?"

"Is your hair always this poke-y? Like, it's soft but ticklish," Dipper uttered, already half-asleep.

"Usually I wear beanies to bed, my hair goes back into shape automatically anyway." Norman yawned again, pulling the larger of the two covers over them.

Dipper laughed quietly, punch drunk from fatigue, "Like a good-luck-troll doll."

Norman laughed quietly too, "Mhm..."

As the seconds passed, they both eventually fell asleep. Dipper had more nightmares that night, but most involved losing Cash Cab over and over in a neverending cycle. Norman dreamed of twins, oddly familiar ones that he just couldn't quite place.

Mabel stayed up a little while longer that night, smiling to herself and thanking her lucky stars. She worried about her brother facing things alone, but it seemed like it may not be just the Pines twins versus the world anymore. Maybe a few others may be able to enter their circle. Maybe they could be their own group, a new group.

Mabel smiled, remembering her talk with Greg, _The Mystery Kid is on the case!_ She remembered herself saying, then smiled. _Good name for us_ , " _The Mystery Kids"_ , she thought to herself. _After all, "The Detective Boys" is already taken._

Mabel dreamed she was in the woods, surrounded by a sea of trees so dense she could not see outside the clearing she stood within. Reaching out a hand, she could not move as the black spherical stone at her feet began to take shape into an animal, one after the next it metamorphisized into a variety of creatures until nothing was there anymore. After the dream ended, she fell into a deep sleep devoid of dreams or nightmares. In the back of her mind, she sensed an omen in the stone she'd seen. _Perhaps_ , she thought, _things aren't what they seem_?

***

Coraline stood in front of Wybie's door, hand outstretched towards the knob as she stood debating whether or not to go in. Wybie had a tendency to stay up late usually until about 4 am, but after not hearing any sounds coming from his room she wondered if he'd gone to sleep early (for once). Her watch on her wrist read 3:33am, and it made her skin crawl.

\---

Despite being exhausted, she couldn't bring herself to sleep through the forboding feeling that seemed to hover thickly in the air. Looking to her to the top drawer of her dresser, her junk drawer, she had found her thoughts stuck on the little wooden box she'd tucked away, wrapped in her old scarf. She had opened the box, removed its contents, and spread them on the table. Immediately, she felt fear claw at her at what the cards told her. Time and time again, revealing the same answers, she knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Not with the Beldam's cards, she had to tell Wybie.

\---

And so there she was, hovering wordlessly outside his door in desperate hope he was awake. However, after a moment of collecting herself, she knocked at his door with cards in hand. Wybie took one look at the tarot cards in her hand and frowned.

"What'd the cards say?" Wybie asked, pulling up Coraline a chair to sit beside his bed.

"That's the weird thing." Coraline answered, plopping into her chair as her eyes squinted in wonder at the pitch black backs of the tarot. "I shuffled and then drew 5 seperate times and they all say the same thing: same cards, same orientation-- no matter how I rephrase the question. Two of Cups with normal orientation, Ace of Wands inverted, and The Tower with normal orientation."

Wybie nodded seriously a few times, a serious expression on his face before looking back at Coraline and the look falling away. "Okay, I honestly didn't follow that. You forget I dropped out of your 'lessons' when you were teaching me all that tarot stuff. "

Coraline rolled her eyes, groaning, holding Ace of Wands in one hand, Two of Cups in the other.

"Pay attention-- I'll only explain this once-- I have to call the twins and warn them, so I don't have a lot of time. Two of Cups in the upright position in the first spot in the trio means the past is dominated by healthy relationships, friendships, teamwork-- if you wanna call it that-- so clearly that means all of us, right? The second spot is the present with the Ace of Wands inverted means selfishness, loss of motivation, unforseen setbacks, so there's either something wrong that they aren't telling us or more likely, they don't even know about. And _that_ ," she pointed at the Tower card still lying beside her with disdain, her mouth pulling at the corners in discomfort and worry. " _That_ is really bad news, Wy. That card has a lot of meanings so I can't place the importance exactly since it hasn't happened yet but I _can_ say that none of those meanings are good. We're all way in over our head, they've gotta know that by now, right?"

Coraline's voice drifted out, picking all the cards up in her hands and staring at them as though she planned to bore holes in them with her gaze. Wybie reached to his desk, grabbed his cell phone and made the call, a groggy Norman answering the phone.

"Norman, it's Wybie. Coraline's got a bad feeling and I think we all need to talk. All five of us." Wybie spoke slowly enough for Norman to understand and to grasp the gravity of the words before continuing. "Either all of us need to talk on speaker or we need to meet up immediately. I can't really explain this in a couple of words. It's... It's a lot."

...

Norman looked at Dipper who was half asleep on the bed, Dipper watching him with half-lidded exhausted eyes. Mabel was soundless in her sleep, unmoving with even, shallow breaths.

"Let's meet at The Bluebird Inn, it's a halfway point between the both of us. Take lit streets only. If your grandmother can drive you, ask her to. I really don't want us to be wandering in the dark like this but I doubt we have a choice anymore...Yeah, see you there...No, don't worry about packing anything it'll take you longer- just essentials... Bring the cards too, anything important we can use... Superstitious or not, seems like that's the only thing on our side right now. Sure, you too, stay on main roads. Bye."

Norman went to his bag and pulled a handful of items out, emptying out his plastic grocery bag of dirty clothes and stuffing the items inside before tying it off and wrapping the handle around his wrist. Making sure he pulled his phone from the charger, he pat Mabel on the shoulder until she woke with a start.

"Norman? What's wrong?" Her voice was thick and rough with sleep.

"Wybie called. We have to meet at the inn, something's wrong." Norman spoke quickly, taking Dipper's phone from his charger and tossing it onto the boy's chest.

"More than the monster on the loose?" Dipper muttered sardonically.

"Coraline's tarot cards, which used to belong to a witch, are talking to her and I'm not dumb enough to ignore a sign like that. It's bad. Come on." Norman spit back, pulling on his shoes, stuffing his socks in his pocket to put on later.

Mabel slunk out of bed, getting her phone out of the dresser, still tired from her few hours of rest and pulled on a pair of her hiking boots over her socks. Dipper was already ready, having sprung up at the moment's notice, pulled on his sneakers without tying them and walking out of the bedroom.

"Leaving a note." He threw over his shoulder as Norman and Mabel walked out of the house ahead of him.

_Something's wrong, we'll be at Bluebird Inn, we'll try to stay in touch. Thanks, guys. - DM & N_

As the three walked alone towards the Bluebird Inn, the moon shone brightly above without a star in sight.


	9. Until Dawn (or Our Deaths, Whichever Comes First)

Norman and the Pines twins made it to the inn first, taking a quick walk around the perimeter before quietly using a spare key taped under the doormat. Norman almost risked knocking when he noticed a soft light from the living room, this light he readily placed as Wirt likely haven fallen asleep while watching television. Norman decided against waking Wirt due to the late hour.

They slunk quietly inside, setting a few belongings down on the shoe cabinet near the door. Upon hearing no sound from the tv, they all noticed that the cable had been turned off but the television set still on. The soft bluish light from the inactive AV input cast an eerie glow onto their faces. Norman guarded the window by the door to quietly let Wybie and Coraline in when they arrived, using the spare time to put socks on and put his shoes back on.

"So, a witch's tarot, huh? Bet that was on your list of things you thought you'd never hear." Dipper whispered quietly to Mabel, trying to joke to ease the tension they all felt.

"Frankly, Dip, I'm too jaded at this point to even really be surprised anymore. The monster has been the only surprise so far." Mabel could barely keep her eyes open from drowsiness, leaning her head against the back of the loveseat. "We'll make it out of this, right?"

"I want to comfort you," Norman interrupted, "but I'm sure this is only the beginning."

"Why do you say that?" Mabel asked.

"Is it _that?"_ Dipper nuanced.

"Yeah, there's been a victim hanging around this house. She's... scared for us." Dipper realized he hadn't told Mabel about his gift, turning quickly to face her. "Mabel, I can-"

"I know, the whole 'I see dead people' thing, right? Didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard you two talking about seeing your friend's dog. It's cool, Norman. I had a crush on a merman, a bunch of gnomes... So we are all listed under Odd in the dictionary. No big deal."

Norman wished he could enjoy the unimpressed way they reacted, unlike anyone else he had ever told. No exaggerated reactions of disbelief, disgust, sympathy, or shock. This thought was then interrupted as an unaccompanied Wybie and Coraline stepped onto the wooden porch and eased open the screen door to be let in.

"So, here's the short version---" Coraline recounted the situation as she took off her jacket and shoes and sat on the arm of the couch. She did not bother explaining how they walked there so quickly without being driven. (They had taken a shortcut through the forest and ran the entire way, something they did not plan on divulging to the older three.)

Coraline took to leaning forward dramatically towards the coffee table, cards in hand. To prove the validity of her story, she shuffled and dealt the cards six times. Each time she shuffled, regardless of for how long or how she shuffled she managed to get the same cards, placement, and orientation every time.

"The Beldam Witch's tarot is no joke. Her residual energy was infused into the deck itself- Coraline found them hidden in the floorboards under the old house. Anyhow, that being said, we can't change our fate but now that we know what is happening we can be more prepared for it." Wybie chimed in.

"Wouldn't that just be self-fulfilling prophecy then, since now we know what will happen?" Mabel asked, yawning as she spoke.

"If you believe in that kind of thing," Norman muttered more to himself than to anyone as he stared out the window in a daze. Norman's eyes lingered on the spirit outside the window across the street, the one he had seen before from Wendy's truck. It just _wouldn't_ dissipate.

"Anyway," Dipper huffed, scrunching his face before wiping the sour expression away with his hand. "The point is: we get along fine, then something goes wrong and we lose momentum, then something goes _really wrong_. Am I understanding this right, Cor?"

"More or less... I mean, the big recurring theme of The Tower is destruction and in our case the only clear line I can draw in the sand is that it's a physical upheaval. Everything will change. I mean-- I guess that could be a positive thing but the odds are stacked against us in terms of having any kind of positives here."

"What's all the fervent whispering about?" Wirt rasped, hair sticking straight up and eyes half-open.

The five let out various reactions of surprise that ranged from Mabel's startled yell to Coraline almost falling off the couch armrest in surprise. Wirt shushed them in a fatigue-induced exaggerated fashion before sitting by Norman who remained by the window. "People are trying to sleep."

"The thing we're after," Norman spoke in a borderline monotone, "its killing can't be random... Something has to connect them..." Norman's distant gazing out the window suddenly sharpened and his head snapped back to the attention of the group. "Dipper! Do you think Wendy can look up personal histories of the victims?"

"Uh, I can try to ask," Dipper muttered, unsure, but getting out his phone and texting deliberately. "I'm on it."

"What makes you think that they're related?" Coraline quipped. "According to the news it has no pattern."

Shocked at her sharp tone, "Call it a hunch, I guess." he defended.

"We can't move solely on a hunch!" Mabel interjected.

"Got any better ideas?" Dipper drug his eyes from his phone for a moment to look crossly at his sister who put up her hands in mock surrender.

"Sure. Fine. You win. When we hear back from Wendy we need to make a game plan and work fast. Probably don't have a lot of time to stop this thing- who's to say it won't leave Gravity Falls once it's had its fill? It could become an epidemic, especially if it can turn others." Mabel conceded, worry laced in her voice. "All this is giving me a bad feeling."

"Usually that's the body's way of telling you you're in over your head and you need to retreat." Wirt crossed his arms, "Believe me, listening to the little voice in your head that screams danger does a lot of good." A couple of the kids turned to Wirt, frowning. "You guys seriously forgot I was standing here, didn't you?"

Dipper spoke up then faltered to a hush as to avoid waking those trying to sleep at the inn, "Wendy said it's doable. Finding access to the names of victims and possible criminal records are easy enough but beyond that only the deed information and death certificates in the library archives may be of any use. She is worried it may be too risky to get access to coroners' reports firsthand but she may be able to relay information since she and the coroner's daughter used to date and still holds a torch for Wendy."

Mabel exhaled, "Huh. Wendy didn't seem like the type to date a coroner's daughter."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing. I asked. She said it's because she was a, uh, how did she put it," he scrolled to her message and relayed it aloud. " 'She was a lolita girl and bubblegum goth and I was a hundred percent there for it. Also she always tasted like butterscotch, so ya know, _yum_.' The 'yum' was in all caps, hence my emphasis."

Wirt exhaled sharply, irritated, "Is that really relevant right now, you guys?"

"Right," Coraline nodded, "So it seems like all this info has to be read through and cross-checked, then we have to find a motive, yeah? Where can we find info on what we're looking for?"

"Hate to say it, but it could be a number of things," Mabel shrugged. "We assume it's a werewolf because it looks like a dog but there are dozens of legendary or mythical dog-like creatures that probably exist. After I found out about manotaurs I won't rule anything out."

"So we could easily be looking at a simple werewolf or something else entirely-" Norman shrugged. "Just off the top of my head I can think of werewolves, hellhounds, skinwalkers, chupacabra, or even chimera can all be canine-like and possible to mistake for one another. We need motive, then we can find out what it is from that."

"So the point is-" Wybie hissed sardonically, "Since you guys insist Coraline and I are not allowed the danger of being boots on the ground, we're stuck to the responsibility of research duty. Am I getting this right?"

"It would be extremely helpful;" Mabel admitted, "if we split up, then we can work different angles."

Coraline stood, "Frankly, I'm okay with not seeing the main action. I'm still recovering from Beldam, so you guys go for it. Wybie, looks like all those folklore and mythology books at the library have our names on them."

Wybie sighed, only half relieved that he was staying out of the crosshairs with Coraline. Coraline being around was always a silver lining.

"You can set up shop here," Wirt instructed to Wybie and Coraline, "I've got a couple of books in the truck that may help and I can go by the library and get the books for you in the morning-- well, daytime. This house is warded from most negative entities I know about, so you should be safe here."

"And you guys," Wirt continued to the other three children. "Stay safe, okay? I don't want any of you guys getting hurt. What you're doing is adult business, it's dangerous."

"My Grunkles Stan and Ford should be coming in any day, they're experienced in these matters too," Dipper assured, "but we can't wait on them or more people may die."

"I just don't want you guys going home to your families in wooden boxes, okay?" Wirt choked on his words but steadied himself. "I'm taking charge as primary caregiver for you guys right now. You're all involved and this is the safest place to be. I'm calling Wybie's grandmother and Soos at the Shack come daylight so they'll understand that your safety requires you to be here; plus that way they do not get harmed just for being nearby. The only guests I have right now are leaving in the morning and I'll call to cancel the other bookings so this place is empty except for us."

"Wirt, the money you'll be turning away-" Norman interjected, standing to look at him.

"My bank account can take a hit, you guys may not be able to take the hits alone. I'm here for you guys. Gregg will be here too. Just focus, I'll take care of your meals. Just get everything you need here in the morning, settle in different rooms and you'll basically be under house arrest 'til you three" he pointed at Norman and the twins, "need to get out there. This is home base, it'll be safe. I'll double the wardings and artifacts just to be sure of its potency."

***

A couple beats of silence ensued as everything sunk into their minds. They were back at The Bluebird Inn, this time without much of a choice. The plan was nearly set but until dawn arrived all that could be done was to wait and rest.

The kids filed into a empty room, the three boys deciding to share the bed and the girls on the daybed in the corner of the room. None had considered splitting rooms, finding comfort in numbers and fading fast towards sleep.

"I used to use the cards a lot," Coraline whispered to a barely-conscious Mabel after the boys had all fallen asleep, "after Beldam, they brought me peace for a while. Because I knew they were imbued with her magic, I knew their accuracy would give me a sense of control when I asked the cards how to solve my troubles. Now I feel like the cards are just taunting me because I don't know how to fill the blanks in the reading."

"There's no real such thing as control, you know," Mabel whispered back to her, "it's all an illusion. There's a great cycle happening around us and with every breath the wheel turns whether we like it or not. Not that there's a set path in life-- nothing's set in stone-- but, control isn't important. All you need is understanding that change can occur with intervention, but only to a humanly possible extent." Mabel yawned, signalling the heavy drowsiness betraying her. "We'll do what we can. It's all we can do. Either we succeed, fail, or die trying; but they could happen together and in different succession, so why worry? Just live for now. We'll worry later. Right now, we need sleep."

With that, the mystery kids all fell asleep into their fitful dreams of screams ripping painfully from the throats of deformed corpses, people fallen victim to a beast; the victims no longer able to retain their faces or names beneath the gore and the grime of forest muck.


	10. Tale of Tales (and the Appearance of The Beast)

Wybie was the first to wake up, finding himself curled up against Norman for warmth during the night. Slightly embarrassed, he eased his way out of the bed and, finding everyone asleep, made his way out to the hallway. Being the lightfooted boy he was, he walked all the way down the stairs and out the front door without anyone waking up. Barefoot and wearing his pajamas, he made his way to the opening of the woods behind the house that he and Coraline had cut through the night before to get to the Bluebird Inn as quickly as possible.

They both had ran as fast as they could in fear last night, despite the actual woods not giving off any ill-intention. Now, though he couldn't see the woods, he got an eerie feeling in that direction. Putting his relaxing outdoor excursion behind, he stepped into the lush grass.

The grass smelled strong and the dew soaked the bottoms of his pants legs as he walked. The sun had risen at least a few hours ago but everyone was exhausted from the night before, and rightfully so. However, Wybie had never been one to sleep very well.

At this time of morning he usually took a walk but with the danger going on he settled with staying in the yard. The closer he got to the woods, the heavier his feet felt and the more he wanted to go back inside.

At the treeline of the woods his hair stood on end, a primal instinct that something was inside the woods. He could practically feel it watching him. Whatever it was.

When he took another step forward he paused at the sight of a boy about his age walking with purpose away from him through the brush and disappearing in the thicket.

Wybie thrust ahead to pursue the figure, wanting to demand why he was spying on the inn. However, upon seeing thick tendrils of poison oak and thorned vines in his path, he returned towards the house.

He wondered after the boy deeply enough that when he walked back in through the front door he bumped into the guests as they prepared to leave.

"Sorry," he muttered, helping them right the suitcase he nearly knocked over. He held the door open as they left and closed and locked it quietly behind them. All the guests gone. Just Wirt and all the kids left.

He turned his head towards the direction of the woods, body still facing the door.

"Up and out already, Wybie? You should be staying in the house." Wirt chided, leaning his temple on the check-in desk. "What's that spacey look for?"

"Saw some guy watching the house from the woods, or least I think it was a guy. I didn't see their face." Wybie whispered, "But I don't wanna jump to conclusions."

Wirt's face grew serious, "Don't go outside again. We can't take any chances. The second you cross that threshold all the talismans and charms I have guarding the house are useless to you. Anything you need from town I can bring to you."

Wybie nodded, more out of habit than actually listening to what Wirt said. He was irritated he was going to lose his freedom to roam around like he was used to, but remembered that odd figure again and laid on the couch prepared to take a nap. Wybie's body felt heavy from the adrenaline kick he got at the treeline.

The more he tried to remember the features of the person he saw, the more the colors and shapes in his mind seemed to lose form. He couldn't even remember the shade of their skin, or the color of their hair, or even if it really was a boy.

"I'm going to go in the book mobile and get some books from the library," Wirt handed Wybie a cordless landline phone and checked his pockets for his wallet and keys. "Any emergency, call me. Even if it's about Gregg trying to sneak out to catch frogs again, I wanna know about it, okay?"

"Yeah," Wybie sighed, his nap was going to have to wait until Wirt returned. "Thanks."

"I really am sorry about you guys having to stay here, I just want you all to be safe."

"I know," Wybie muttered, scratching his ear. "Mind if I call my grandma?"

"Call whoever you need to, just minimize 800, 900, and international calls."

"Right," Wybie half-smiled, rolling his eyes. "O-kay."

"Good boy," Wirt clicked his tongue with a wink and finger-pistol.

"You're turning into a middle-aged-dad overnight." Wybie advised, "You might want to regain your youth before everyone wakes up or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Right," Wirt nodded curtly, "be back in a bit. Don't leave the house."

"I won't." Wybie assured. "Now go-- unless you want me to make charred eggs for breakfast."

Wirt shuddered, muttered an assurance and left through the back door.

Wybie made the call to his grandmother who answered on the second ring, assuring her he was safe and telling her about how the house was warded.

"Warded?" she asked, "What the hell does that mean?"

He surpressed a laugh, he rarely heard his grandmother curse anymore.

"Like, enchanted objects with protection spells cast on them- you know, like Great-Aunt Ninny's rosary."

 _"That's a Catholic thing, it's not 'enchanted'. Her priest gave it to her when-"_ Wybie could practically see her doing air-quotes as she pattered on with her story.

"It was just an example," Wybie grumbled, cutting her short as he rubbed the bridge of his nose to satiate his irritation.

He loves the woman but it's hard to explain the _unexplainable_ to a woman that spends all day cleaning, cooking, or watching reruns of stand-up comedy routines.

"Anyway, Coraline and I are safe, we will be fine so make sure you don't go out at night. If you go at all, use the car and stick to well-lit roads. If you need anything, I'll head over."

_"Be safe Wyborn, okay? I don't wanna lose you like I lost your mama. I can't go through that again."_

"Of course, Grams... If I died I couldn't eat your cooking anymore." he joked.

 _"WYBORN PACHU'A LOVAT, WHY I OUGHTA-",_ Ms. Lovat screeched.

"Bad joke," Wybie giggled. "Yeah, yeah, I know..."

...

Norman walked in the living room quietly to see Wirt but after taking a look around and noticing Wirt's van gone and Wybie-- the only other person awake-- on the phone, he figured now would be a good time to catch up with Gregg.

He opened the door with an obnoxious squeak, causing Gregg to bolt upright in bed with a giant, inflated baseball bat in his hand.

"I'll get you cloud ma-!" Gregg yelled, bat at the ready. Realizing who had entered the room, though, lowered the bat. "Oh, hi, Normie. Had a dream about the cloud again."

"You okay, Gregg? You seem different since I saw you last." Norman asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Gregg set the bat down on the floor next to the bed, "Lived with mom and dad when you saw me last."

"Right, sorry." Norman cringed.

"I almost died in The Wood, Normie, it's weird."

"Yeah, that's a traumatic thing."

"What's it feel like, for people to believe you?"

"What do you mean?" Norman shifted his feet, his cousin's sudden seriousness offputting.

"Believe you see ghosts, believe about the zombies, the witch... How does it feel?"

"I don't know... exactly," Norman leaned back into the wall, "most of the people that believe me were there, except for you guys, that's why I moved to California. I had a target on my back worse than before. Became a sideshow attraction. I just... I missed being invisible."

"I miss not knowing things," Gregg whispered, "I miss being dumb."

"You've never been dumb, Gregg, maybe ignorant or naïve..."

"Well, that, then..." Gregg paused, glancing at a stray shoe in the corner of the room. "I miss Jason Funderberker."

"Your frog?"

"Mhm," Gregg smiled, "he left to go be in a kid's movie somewhere. He said he could sing in it, Jazz I think. He had a nice voice, so that's good."

"Gregg?"

"Yeah?"

"You know what me and the others are doing, right?"

Gregg nodded, "None of you are good at talking quiet."

"So will you promise to stay here in the house and stay safe when some or all of us leave to go take care of that Thing?"

"I promise. I have had enough of 'Beasts' for this lifetime. Maybe the pale one and the slouchy one need help looking up stuff."

"Yeah," Norman sighed, relieved he didn't need to convince Gregg, for what it was worth. "You're a good help."

"Thanks, Normie, I try." Gregg then paused, stared at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Norman. "Everyone's awake now, I hear sets of feet on the stairs."

"Good hearing." Norman praised.

"One of them steps like an elephant."

Norman laughed then listened, hearing loud thumps. "You aren't wrong. Think that's Coraline and her combat boots."

Leaving Gregg's door open, Norman peered into the hall to see Mabel trying on Coraline's heavy boots and, based on the sound of them clomping around on the wooden floor, were clearly too big for Mabel's feet.

Gregg laughed, peeking out from behind Norman, "She looks like a duck."

Mabel waddled, lifting her feet a little too high with every step to get used to the weight of the boots.

"I heard that!" Mabel yelled, causing Gregg to laugh even more.

They all made their way to the kitchen, Wirt walking through the back door with large brown paper bags, one with grease seeping through the side.

"Got everyone some breakfast at the diner and got about 7 books, all I could really find. Sorry, guys." Wirt set his keys on the hook and set the food on the counter, the books on the coffee table. "Dig in."

Apprehensively, everyone took food from the large portions stored in styrofoam to-go containers, the books in the corner of the room weighing down the otherwise pleasant mood.

Eventually, as they ate, they all loosened up enough to talk amongst themselves with varied degrees of attention and mood. Gregg was sneakily picking food off Wirt's plate. Wybie occasionally leaned in to Coraline's ear to whisper over the noise of various conversations. Mable was eating her pancakes into the shapes of woodland creatures then laughing as she'd eat various "limbs".

Norman and Dipper sat beside each other, not really talking to the others outside of occasional comments about the food. Dipper was watching his food as if it held clues. Norman picked and played at his food, only eating a few bites here and there.

Norman and Dipper made eye contact, a heavy sigh and a weak smile being shared. Danger or not, small moments of false security were nice.

\-------

The Beast awoke to the chirping of birds outside the opening of the cave. Growling, he buried his head in his arms, nails digging into the dirt floor, coarse hair standing on end. Too loud. Everything was _too loud_.

The body of the Beast was large and imposing, hunching so its back did not reach the roof of the cave. Hunger ripped at its stomach, pain aching through its body. Opening its mouth to yawn, its yellowed teeth bared wide with gums pink and saliva dripping from its mouth. When stretching its back, it noticed blood coating its paws where it tore into its last victim, brown flakes coating his claws. It licked at the blood, helping to minimally reduce the evidence of its kill.

Soon, it gave up, comfortable by now of the feeling of being caked in blood.

On the other side of the cave, hiding in the shadows from the light of day was a fire that had long since burned to ash. Coating a nail with ash, it drew small images in the ground. A reminder.

"Dead," it growled, the guttural voice vibrating in the quiet cave. "All dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am basing Mrs. Lovat on my own grandmother. Although my gran is very fond of calling me... creative names when I'm being ornery ^w^; hehehe


	11. The Breakfast Club (ft. Two Old Men and a Surprise)

With breakfast done, the Mystery Kids took the bags of books to the living room and each took a book. Sitting at various spots in the room, they began to read (or in Wybie's case, skim-with-purpose).

Gregg watched cartoons quietly, listening to the sighs and turning of pages beside him. Wirt was cleaning the upstairs bedrooms so the kids could spread out and each get their own room, despite having the gut feeling that they would still want to stay together regardless.

Norman was the first to finish a book, tossing it on the table and letting out an exasperated groan, "This is useless. Hyle has to know more than she's letting on, we will make no progress this way!"

Mabel scoffed, not looking up from her book, "What would she have to gain by lying to us, Norman?"

"I don't know, maybe she's in kahoots with it!" Norman put his face in his hands and screamed into them, muttering to himself. "At least with the witch I knew what I was up against..."

"What are we, chopped liver?" Coraline nudged Norman with her foot. "We're _all_ in this, we _all_ have to deal with this."

After a couple of minutes there was a subdued knock at the front door, Wybie got up to answer it and after some quiet words exchanged, looked at the others with an odd look on his face.

"Some old guys are here looking for the twins." Wybie announced, Dipper and Mabel sharing a glance.

"Damn, kid, did no one teach you manners?" A gruff voice chided.

"Where is Dipper and Mabel?" Another voice followed.

"Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?" Dipper jumped up, followed by Mabel who tackled their great-uncles with a hug.

"We took a plane, believe it or not. Good on you, Dipper, for paying extra for express delivery." Ford rubbed Dipper's head.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Stan smiled at Mabel, then his smile fell. "We were actually on our way back but we got your letter and took a plane instead. We heard from Soos about a strange death and it seemed... supernatural... so we were trying to come back, but when we realized you kids were here again... Yeah. So here we are."

"So what are we hunting down, exactly?" Stan asked, noticing all the other kids in the room waved half-heartedly and stepped inside.

"Your guess is as good as ours, honestly." Norman sighed, laying his head down on a book in defeat.

"Your motivation is inspiring." Stan deadpanned, "Let's get you kids out of the house for a while, we'll talk somewhere."

"We're under house arrest." Wybie interjected, leaning up against the front door. "Can't."

"You'll be safe with us," Ford assured. "It will only be for a little while. Where is your caretaker?"

"Wirt, he's my cousin, he's in charge of Coraline and Wybie too. He's upstairs."

"And you are?"

"I'm Gregg." Gregg responded.

"My name is Norman," he smiled at Gregg who was grinning to himself. "Gregg is my cousin too."

The uncles nodded to themselves and Ford headed upstairs while Stan stayed with the group.

"So what direction are we going in with this?"

"We know it's doglike and likes tearing people apart." Mabel responded, "That's about it."

"Do we know if it actually _ate_ anyone?" Stan asked.

The kids looked at each other in shock, they hadn't even thought of that. Were they _sure_ if this thing ate anyone? The kills were predatory, sure, but could it have been territorial?

"We don't know," Dipper answered. "Wendy said she is gonna try to get coroner's reports."

"That girl will always be a troublemaker." Stan grumbled to himself.

"That _girl_ is our best bet right now," Wirt snapped, leaning against the stair railing. "Coroner reports are the best chance we have of getting any leads, Stanley Pines."

"So you're Wirt, huh? The squirt always called you Conehead, never knew you were the owner of Bluebird."

"Am I missing something?" Coraline whispered to herself. Wybie shrugged with a lax expression in response.

"Gregg used to go to the Mystery Shack a lot when we first moved here, made pretty good friends with Stan here and Soos too. I, on the other hand, prefer to keep away from tourist traps. The woods by the Shack gives me the creeps." Wirt explained to no one in particular, almost as if he was doing a development reveal for the sake of story progression.

"Creeps, why? You scared of something, Wart?"

"Wirt. And no, it's just that I get a bad feeling around there. I know what danger feels like and I trust my gut."

"You worried about the big shadow monster?" Stan asked mockingly, much to the discomfort of Ford who looked at though he wanted to step in.

"Shadow monster?" Dipper squinted, "... There was something like that in the journal."

"The hide-behind," Ford argued, "is a trickster at best. Harmless."

"Ever considered there is more than one? How do you know they're all harmless?" Wirt asked, hands shaking a little at the familiar fear of remembering the Forest Beast and his lantern. "Gregg... You told him?"

Gregg nodded quietly, eyes glued to the floor, "I told Soos, he said he wouldn't tell, but I guess he told him anyway. The Stans said they knew what it was, and knowing would make it less scary for us..."

"Well are you satisfied, Gregg? Did it help?"

A silence fell, the Gruncles seeing their opprotunity to leave, slipped out without a word. They'd get the kids out of the house later when Wirt cooled off.

"No," Gregg whispered, "because that means there may be more than one."

Wirt sighed, "So this 'Hide-Behind' is the Forest Beast, what does it matter?"

"It means that there is rarely ever _just_ one of anything. Whatever we're dealing with may not be the only one in the world. Look at doppelgangers, they're in practically every country's myth somehow. This thing may not be working alone." Dipper explained with frustration.

"Oh god, that is the _last_ thing we need to hear right now." Mabel whispered, putting her face in her hands.

"Chill, Mabel, we can handle this. All of us are in this together." Wybie assured, reaching over to touch her shoulder. "We have to believe in ourselves."

"Thanks, Bob Ross..." Coraline muttered to herself.

"More importantly," Wirt started, "if Wendy is helping you with this she better hurry, it's not like you all have time to waste."

"Heard that," Wendy interrupted, walking in through the back door.

"Did no one ever teach you to knock?" Wirt hissed, turning his head towards her.

"In my house, you lock the door or people come in. With the state of things, you should remember to lock all your doors and windows, anyway."

Gregg-- unsettled by the conflict between Wirt and Wendy, as well as being told on by the Gruncles, went back to his room to read away from all the drama.

"I don't need a lecture from-" Wirt started but was cut off by Wendy.

"Got the info, guys, Magnolia came through." Wendy set the copied records on the table, pulling a personal post-it note from the front. "I didn't get too good of a look but something stuck out, big-time. There's a toxicology report in here that tells multitudes."

"Meaning?" Dipper's ears perked, watching her intently as she sat on the floor with crossed legs and a quiet curse as she bumped her knee on the coffee table.

"The victims so far have all been clean in terms of toxicity. _Squeaky_ clean, in fact. The ages are all different, walks of life are different, but the thing they all share is this," she raised her fingers with each she counted off. "No alcohol in their blood, _at all_ , not even a low level you get from using mouthwash. No nicotine, no caffeine. It's _eerie,_ right? It's not just me thinking it?"

"That's... not a coincidence. No way it can be. The chances of that happening are..." Norman stops for a moment, does the math in his head and sighs. "There is a less than _half_ of one percent that this thing managed to pick these victims at random. There's a method to this... But what?"

"This." Coraline pointed, spreading the coroner pages side by side. "Something else. They were all healthy with no serious illness or disabilities, roughly-average weights even for their different heights."

"Maybe it's ritualistic? Like it _has_ to choose certain types of people?" Mabel's eyes widened and she lowered her voice and looked at Wendy with a stern gaze. "This may sound crazy... But what if they're virgins too?"

"Oh my god, please don't say that word in my presence." Dipper whispered in discomfort, much to the mild amusement of the others.

Wendy coughed to supress a laugh.

"I'm serious!" Mabel insisted. "It's the oldest ritual in the _book_. Sacrifice some virgins for the big scary monster, but this thing would have taken it upon itself to scrounge up its sacrifices... But why?"

"Maybe it needs a power-up." Wybie offered, "something like that probably doesn't get the chance to do all this without being noticed."

"Right." Wendy exhaled, slapping her thighs in finality. "I have to get to work. Some of us have real jobs to get to. I'll let you know if anything comes up, you kids be careful."

"I'll walk you out." Wirt muttered, following Wendy out the back door with a fierce rigidity in his posture.

The kids watched the two leave and turned their attention away from their own thoughts for a moment, trying in vain to hear what the two talked about. The room fell quiet only for a few moments before the silence was interrupted by Mabel shuffling through the stack of papers with interest, in hopes of finding information to possibly support her theory. Like that, the spell was broken. Wybie continued to look through the books while Coraline joined Mabel with reading the background checks and coroner reports.

Dipper stood, walking to the front window and sighed, "I need to get my journals. I forgot them between... everything."

"I'll go with you," Norman offered, feeling sick with worry over everything. "I need a break."

"We'll tell Wirt," Coraline assured, "just take your phones. If you aren't back in a couple hours, we'll send out a search party."

"It won't be that long-" Dipper shook his head, pulling on his shoes, securing his phone in his pocket.

"That was her attempt at a joke," Wybie muttered, "better hurry before he finishes talking to Wendy or you may never get out of here."

"Yeah," Norman agreed, putting on his shoes and putting his phone in his hoodie pocket. "Be back soon."

...

They stepped outside and walked towards the Mystery Shack with a heavy silence between them, when walking along the path they noticed a dirt road off to the side, trailing away from the main part of town.

Norman stopped at the edge of the path, transfixed by something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Dipper turned around after already walking several yards ahead and jogged back.

"What's up, Norman?"

"I need to go down this path." Norman told him, looking at Dipper with an odd expression. "There's something I need to see. I can feel it."

Dipper's eyes closed as he exhaled through his nose in exasperation, "See what? All that's back there is a bunch of abandoned cottages, I saw them last time I was here. Most of them were destroyed during Weirdmageddon by a giant robot."

"Dipper," Norman insisted.

"Alright. Lead the way, Ghost Boy." Dipper put his arm out in a mock-bowing gesture before taking stride beside Norman.

The path was overgrown with clovers and vines that made the dirt path nearly invisible, save for the downtrodden earth beneath the foliage. At some point, the trees drew closer and closer together, making the path feel even smaller and more uninviting. The further they walked, the more houses they saw demolished or in desperate need for repairs. At the end of the road was the only house that seemed habitable, faded yellow siding and dark trim hiding underneath years of overgrowth.

The closer they got, the more they realised someone must be living in the home. A few white plastic chairs and a table sat out front, fairly clean. Windows were open with drawn curtains, the lavender cloth flapping in the noontime breeze. Once they had gotten within 5 feet of the home, a door opened, a figure sweeping dirt out onto the lawn.

The figure's head turned up to the sky, shielding their eyes from the brightness and then allowed their eyes to land on the figures of Norman and Dipper walking towards the house. The figure straighted, seeming taller as a grin broke out on their face.

"Oh my lord... Dipper Pines, is that you?" The voice called out with a familiar tone.

"Wait," Dipper's expression contorted into shock. "Gideon!?"


	12. Old Friends/Bookends (and, you know, Gideon)

"Why, Dipper Pines, I haven't seen you in... gosh, it's been a few years, hasn't it?" Gideon smiled, no malice showing through in his tone or mannerisms. A nice Gideon seemed more unnerving than the Lil' Gideon from those years ago. He had lost weight, gained some muscle, and traded out the cheesy suit for a short sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He had really grown into his sharp face, even though his face still rounded out at the cheeks where his freckles stood out.

"Uh... What are you doing out here?" Dipper asked, discomfort clear on his face.

"Moved out here, not many people forgave me after... everything." Gideon's voice snagged for a moment but he regained his composure quickly. "I doubt you have either, can't blame you. It's good to see you again, though, Dipper Pines."

Gideon's eyes then caught Norman, who was confused and beside himself with the nuances in the conversation.

"I forgot my manners, I'm sorry. My name is Gideon, I'm a bit infamous around this parts. I, uh, triggered the end of the world..." Gideon's laugh was awkward as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, "Well, the end of Gravity Falls at least. To be frank, I was not a good person then. I was a spoiled brat and got away with a lot more than I should've. Luckily, though, the Pines twins put me in my place."

"There is a lot of understatements in there, Gideon. Why are you out here in the middle of the woods? Seriously?" Dipper asked, glancing over his shoulder to notice a seemingly empty house.

"My parents split up soon after you all left. My mom couldn't stand being around me anymore and my dad didn't really want anything to do with me after I used that spell on him when I was in prison--" Gideon gave out a short laugh at seeing the confused look on Norman's face. "Sorry, I'm letting you boys stand while I'm rattling on."

Gideon got an unsure look in his eyes as he looked between Norman and Dipper, opening the front door to the home. "Would you like to come in?"

Norman glanced at Dipper, who took a deep breath before walking inside. The three sat at a mismatched set of three lounge chairs, sitting in silence for a moment before Norman broke the silence.

"So you two obviously have some animosity here, so what happened?" Norman asked.

"I have no ill-feelings towards the Pineses, not anymore, anyhow. I wanted to kill them once, but I was still a child with no grip on my anger and no positive role models to shape my behavior..."

Gideon chuckled, "I've been seeing a therapist, Dipper, don't give me that face. I really have changed. I mean, I have a job at the Northwest mansion as a landscaping hand and because of them I was able to get this house out here and in exchange for working for them. They took responsibility as my guardians until I can live independently in a year."

"You're serious?" Dipper leaned forward, searching Gideon's face.

"As a heart attack, pine tree. Anyway, introduce me, this poor kid is probably hopelessly confused." Gideon turned to Norman (who had long since zoned out since he was excluded from most of the conversation).

"Norman, this is Gideon... It's a long story. Gideon... This is Norman, he's my friend from California."

"So this... 'Weirdmageddon' Dipper and Mabel keeps mentioning, was there seriously a bunch of demons roaming around Gravity Falls?" Norman asked, his curiosity overtaking his decorum.

Gideon's eyebrows shot up, then he exhaled sharply, "They weren't demons, per se. They were more like... inter-dimensional beings. Like, uh, a lump of strong energy that takes the form it wants. I mean, Bill was-"

"Can we not talk about him, please?" Dipper snapped, voice weakened by fear. His fingernails digging unconsciously into the arm of the chair.

"Right, well... The whole thing was a big mess. I kind of started it, or at least was the catalyst. More importantly, though, how's Mabel?"

"Still have a crush on my sister, Lil' Gideon?" Dipper's eyes betrayed a devious lilt when Gideon flushed.

" 'Course not. She was just... Really nice to me back then, despite everything I did. Was wondering how she is." Gideon defended a little too readily, but sincere in his concern.

"She's good, like always... Anyway, have you heard about the animal attacks?" Dipper asked, still holding a nugget of suspicion against Gideon.

Gideon looked genuinely shocked, which took Dipper off-guard, "Has there been another one?"

"If you know about them, why in the hell are you living in the woods alone? Are you crazy?!" Dipper yelled a little too loud, causing Norman to elbow Dipper in the ribs.

"The Northwests offered me a room to stay til it gets taken care of, but I know they'd rather not have me there after Pacifica..."

"Pacifica?"

"She was planning on coming home to visit but she went missing a few months ago, no one knows where she is. She is all but short of being declared dead."

"Wow," Dipper's breath felt like it rattled in his chest.

"Dipper, the time--" Norman pointed out, pointing to a clock on the wall.

"Right, well, uh... I guess it was good to see you, Gideon." Dipper stood, Norman standing shortly after. "Stay inside."

"Right," Gideon laughed. "I have an axe that doesn't take kindly to trespassers. I'll be fine, Dipper Pines."

"Right." Dipper nodded, leaving as Norman waved an awkward goodbye before running up close behind.

"What in the hell was all that?"

"Long story."

"So you keep saying..." Norman whispered under his breath, shoving his fists in his pockets with childlike irritation.

...

They walked back to the main road and Dipper turned his attention back to Norman after he had finished stewing in his thoughts.

"Why did you want to go that way?"

"I didn't _want_ to I had a feeling I _needed_ to."

"I know I haven't talked to you about Bill... But he is the main reason I have nightmares. I constantly worry he'll come back, that it's not over."

"Gideon made it all sound pretty final," Norman shrugged and tried to sound reassuring. "You have nothing to worry about."

"You mean other than the human-slaughtering Beast running around?" Dipper looked sidelong to Norman who laughed nervously in response, hands up in surrender.

"Other than that, yeah." Norman concluded.


	13. Their Eyes Downcast (and Ignored like Ghosts)

The walk seemed long. Their conversation was dying out like a campfire, smoldering to ash. Useless dust in the wind.

Dipper walked a step ahead of Norman, keeping his eyes ahead as though creating his own sense of tunnel vision for the task ahead. His footsteps were a little too fast and too heavy, shoes slapping against the concrete road in an unpleasant and uneven rhythm. Norman tried to keep up, his shorter legs forcing him to speed up some just to keep up, his calves burning.

Dipper felt like a new heap of shit had rained down upon him when he reunited with Gideon, who wasn't so little anymore, and possibly no longer as terrible. He remembered the sight of Gideon's unsure gaze; Gideon's self-consciousness that he was much too proud to feel those years ago. Dipper feared what everyone being in Gravity Falls again could mean. What it _would_ mean.

Then again, he reminded himself-- McGucket was gone, Pacifica supposedly having gone "missing", and Robbie god-knows-where on tour with his band-- reassured him some. Pieces were missing so, even if he feared Bill could strike again, he couldn't without all the needed pieces. There was only 7 of them now. That thought made his mood dampen even more.

He must take care that 7 continue to remain.

 _Add it to the list of crappy things, Dip, it's your responsibility yet again to save others from some big bad,_ Dipper told himself. _At least it's not just me and Mabel against the world anymore..._

Norman's eyes scanned the streets, the town quietly bustling along. Despite walking in the gutters of the street, the two boys were not yelled at to move by people in cars or by people on the sidewalk to step out of the street. They were essentially ignored, occasionally noticed but then overlooked. This unsettled Norman, although he didn't admit it aloud.

Back in Blithe Hollow, the town was probably the same size as Gravity Falls with probably the same amount of niche tourism and yet this town seemed... _Self-absorbed?_ That was the only word Norman could come up with. Everyone seemed to ignore each other, eyes not meeting those outside their small groups. At least in Blithe Hollow they yelled at neighborhood kids to get out of the street, or get off their lawn. In Gravity Falls, there was no real interaction, perhaps due to the feeling that their all hiding one big secret.

 _Hiding Bill, or at least everyone trying to forget him, must be a full-time job,_ Norman thought. _Maybe not, maybe, this is normal,_ _people minding their own business..._

Then, adding that to the unsettled feeling that Dipper seemed to radiate made Norman uneasy. Gideon had seemed nice. He seemed sad, but nice. 

Norman could tell he was lonely out there by himself, he knew the look in Gideon's eyes well enough because he saw the same look on his own face sometimes, felt those half-hearted smiles pulling the corners of his mouth. He wondered if Dipper saw those signs in Gideon too. Norman looked back over his shoulder and part of him wished they had stayed a little longer at Gideon's. Talking helps ebb the loneliness for a while, and even if he was being presumptuous (and Gideon wasn't _actually_ sad), it couldn't hurt. 

Especially, since there seemed to be bad blood between Gideon and Dipper, he felt out of the loop again and it was just like the "ghost thing" all over again. No one to talk to, being ostracized, and it reminded him of something he hadn't noticed before. There were plenty of ghosts in Gravity Falls, that he'd seen and experienced firsthand, but none of them seemed interested in talking to him. Just like the live townspeople, no one seemed to be in the mood to talk.

"Is everyone always this quiet?" Norman asked Dipper with an uneasy lilt in his voice, "Even the ghosts are... not even looking at me. It's kind of scaring me, Dipper."

Norman makes eye contact with a spirit that seems to be an old man who may have died of suicide, rope marks barely visible on his ghost, following a young girl texting on her phone. The old man made eye contact with Norman, expression of boredom changing to forced disinterest as he turned his eyes away from the boy looking back at him in shock and back to his oblivious granddaughter.

"It's like they are forcing themselves to ignore me, Dipper. This has never happened before, not this much." Norman whispered, putting his hand on Dipper's shoulder tight enough to stop him from walking. "Look around, didn't you go to that diner at least once?"

Dipper nodded, "Lazy Susan works there." Noticing Susan, he waves to her as she sweeps dirt out through the door. She makes eye contact and turns her eyes down to her feet without waving back. "Maybe she just doesn't recognize me. I haven't been back since puberty, I'm sure I changed a lot."

"Does everyone in town know about... Him?" Norman asked, his voice careful.

"To varying degrees," Dipper explained, "some know he's a demon that tried to destroy the Falls, other people are privvy to the fact that he possessed Gideon and me. I will admit they were a lot more... welcoming before we left compared to now. It is a little weird. It might just be the timing, Bill was around when we were and now there's a big dog thing mauling people alive. I'll admit the timing is not great, though it was happening before we got here."

"They probably don't know that." Norman admitted. "You should check on other patterns though, maybe this beast has killed before now. There are a lot of ghosts here, even if they are ignoring me, maybe they worry since I'm with you the beast may try to destroy their spirit."

"It can do that?" Dipper asked, suddenly feeling the need to shake off a chill.

"Well, it can be done, sure. Maybe this thing is smart enough to know how, but that's a big leap. We haven't seen it messing with ghosts so far."

"True." Dipper nodded, "My brain is just all over the place. I'm trying to make connections the best I can, but a lot of my theories are flimsy."

"That's why Coraline and Wybie are gonna look into it." Norman assured, "I'm sure they'll find something, even if it's a long shot."

"We're here." Dipper pointed to the house ahead of them, smaller than the Shack. "I think." They reached the mailbox which read "The Brothers Stan" (matched with a crude doodle of a fez and a 6-fingered hand). Dipper pursed his lips in an unamused expression, "Yeah, it's them."


	14. Gravity Falls Community Radio (with an ear to the ground)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's featured song: Crosses by José González

Norman looked at the house once more and suppressed a sigh, taking in the cramped, dusty cabin that looked like it wasn't much more than a way-point to rest between trips. In truth, that was all it really was-- an old house held together by memories and old-fashioned, hardy craftsmanship.

Dipper still stared at the house thoughtfully when Norman broke the silence of the quiet street with a disgruntled tone.

"Wait, why are we going here? The Mystery Shack isn't for several blocks, I thought the whole reason we came out was for your journals." Norman asked, arms subconsciously crossed.

"I do want them," Dipper explained, "but I also want my great uncles to provide some knowledge that only they can. Ford has dealt with supernatural entities for longer than I've been alive, why shouldn't we ask his opinion? Because Wirt doesn't like them?-- No offense."

"None taken," Norman responded, eyes catching sight of a figure passing a window on the side of the house. "We should go in."

Dipper knocked on the door, a few heavy footfalls thumping around followed by the frowning expression of Stan, who barely spared a glance before ushering them in.

He sat them at the table, pulling a bar stool from the pantry to sit on for himself. None of the furniture matched, each wood piece a different wood, color, stain, you name it. Even the living room furniture mix-matched beyond excuse for "modern" decor. To the boys, the house looked like a garage sale puked on it. To be fair though, it practically had.

Stan took a bite out of the banana he plucked from the bunch on the table and talked through his food, "Comin fo hep, huh?"

"Yeah," Dipper nodded, eyes watching his great uncle intently. He hadn't seen him for years, sure, but Stan seemed much older than before. He didn't seem to be much of a smiler anymore either. "We wanted to know if you or Gruncle Ford have dealt with anything like this before."

"Well, definitely not me," Stan rolled his eyes, "and who knows what Ford knows. Don't you practically have the journals memorized, why are you asking me?"

"I could only write down what I remembered at the time and most of it was Bill gibberish from a scared kid. Give me a break, okay?" Dipper snapped, "Where's Ford?"

"Think he went to go get groceries, we haven't been at the house in months. Cabinet is as empty as the Pit." Stan finished his banana, throwing the peel away.

"Then where'd you get the banana?" Norman asked, pointing with his thumb at the bunch.

"May or may not have swiped it from the neighbor's grocery delivery, but that's beside the point." he defended. "When Ford gets back, you all should talk about this. I still don't know much about all this stuff, he has years of experience on both of us, kids. Shouldn't be too long now, if you wanna turn on the radio and listen to show tunes... or whatever they play on the radio in this town nowadays."

Dipper shrugged and got up, turning on the radio, "Maybe they'll have another report on the victims, could get some new info."

"Even if it's just speculation of everyone in town leaning on their radio, with their phone in hand." Stan grumbled to himself, "I hope Ford brings some booze back with him."

Norman looked at Stan and felt a weight in his chest. _Dad does that too_ , he thought to himself, _turn to the drink when anything doesn't go his way or doesn't seem easy to handle. Mom is just sad, subdued smiles and meds. Courtney is just absent, physically and emotionally._

 _I get bad too sometimes._ Norman glanced back up at Dipper who was sitting beside him, elbows on his knees and leaning forward listening intently to some local indie band's song as if it held all the answers. _When I get bad, though, I drown myself in my screenplay. Just shut it all down and repurpose my negative feelings for the sake of art. Not exactly the healthiest thing to do, but what else do I have?_

 _Dipper_ , he wondered to himself. _Mabel too... maybe. We'll see._

Once the song finished, a young male voice came on the radio, an odd combination of dated vernacular and a charming childish lilt to his voice.

"Hell-lo Gravity Falls! This is your ear to the ground and the voice to the masses, Tad Cornelius Strange, and here's today's forecast-" the radio chimed, Dipper turning the volume down a moment to look out the window as Ford pulled up the driveway in an old station wagon.

"Guess he's home to talk now," Dipper thought aloud.

"Guess so," Norman replied, suddenly desperate for a drink of water to soothe the uncomfortable lump in his throat.

Ford entered with a curse, bellowing that Stan should have at least held the door if he didn't plan on helping. Once he caught sight of the boys, he seemed slightly embarrassed and his features softened.

"Give me a few minutes, boys."

Dipper returned his hand to the knob of the radio, turning the music up as silence fell in the small house. Ford made trips from the car to inside, swift but focused, lips pinched shut.

They would have to talk about it sooner or later: the folly of throwing the journals into the pit, the bad sense of delving into all of this madness alone, and the tips needed to survive this whole ordeal. Surely, Stan would use choice phrases such as "you nimrods", "touched in the head", and "what were you thinking?". Ford, on the other hand, would most surely remain quiet for a long time before speaking after Stan. He would be taking his time to explain the dangers while also being firm that they should accept the help of adults, that they should not bear the burden alone. His knowledge did not extend too much further than theirs and that made him even more nervous for the lot of them.

This, of course, would all be followed by Dipper defending himself with just a little too much venom. His fingers would clench and unclench into fists as Norman would offer impartial advice, to take the help offered but only under their conditions so that they could handle it their own way. Dipper would reluctantly agree, while the great-uncles of a boy who used to smile much more often, would only agree because they felt out of viable options. At least the agreement would allow them to be involved to some degree.

After this, the boys would continue on their way and head to their real destination, to collect Dipper's journals. They would walk in silence, sure that they were doing the right thing by bearing this weight alone. **** ****


	15. Research, Journals, and Creatures-- Oh My!

And so it goes. The quiet and conspiratory tones between the four as they sat around the living room. Music a steady drone in the background, as they discussed their plan of action. Near the end of this meeting, as Dipper and Ford had sharp words back at forth at the dangers involved; Dipper with not wanting to involve too many others, and Ford fearing that they were all too young to take the Beast on alone. 

Norman received a text from Mabel alerting him something along the lines of how dangerous it is for them to be out alone, even in daylight, so on and so forth. Norman assured her they were safe and would be back in an hour or so. She seemed placated some but not entirely unworried, her choice of words making it obvious even over text. Unsurprising, since the vision of Hyle's warnings were fresh in all their minds. He added that they dropped by to see Stan and Ford, in hopes it would reassure her, despite already sitting in their living room.

Judging by the string of emojis, he figured she was relieved at least to some degree. The faces ranging from skeptical to exasperated, with a few hourglasses in an attempt to emphasize the lack of time they likely had to deal with this problem. He had to give her credit for how well she could express herself just with a string of symbols and facial expressions. He barely followed the conversation between Dipper and his Gruncles, vague references to certain events he wasn't privy to being mentioned on occassion. 

He stood up, his knees snapping a bit in protest. The couch was slow to rise from where he had sat, clearly the cause of the difficulty he had getting off the couch. The movement caused Dipper to look at him in understanding.

"Right, well-" Dipper interrupted, standing with some difficulty himself. He glanced at the clock and frowned, he hadn't planned taking this long here. "Norm and I gotta go. Whether or not you agree with us doing this, we're already involved. It's your choice if you want to help us or hinder us. Let us know if you think of anything."

"Sure, kid." Stan interrupted Ford with a sour look. "We'll let you know. We're proud of you, though my brother is too worried about your safety to admit it. I know when things were bad before, I wasn't exactly there when you needed me. I was too preoccupied with the Shack..." His voice tugged a little but he cleared his throat and the weakness in his voice was gone. "Anyway, you and your sister were able to snuff Bill Cipher, this will be a cake walk for you kids. We believe in you, all of you."

Dipper hugged them both, Norman waving awkwardly before whispering so only the Gruncles could hear as Dipper walked ahead to the porch, "I don't have time to explain, but do you two know an old man who may have died in town?" Norman asked, briefly describing the spirit he saw leaving the forest property.

The two shared a look, then Stan shrugged while Ford shook his head. Norman, too distracted by Dipper calling for him, did not question the odd look that passed between them. When he caught up to Dipper, they spoke small-talk, commenting on the passing houses or buildings. Dipper paused mid-sentence to thank Norman for coming along, to admit how relieved he felt to see his Gruncles again and speak to them (relatively) alone. Norman shrugged, as though it was no big deal. Dipper took a deep breath through his nose, pointing to the Shack. 

"Might be best if I run in and run out, what with the situation and all." Dipper muttered, still a little bitter at how Soos and Melody were acting. Just because he understood, doesn't mean it was fair, or that he had to like it. 

Norman put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, "I'll be here when you get back."

"Right," Dipper nodded, scurrying inside without knocking. 

A few minutes passed and as Norman began to feel odd standing less than 20 feet away from the Mystery Shack just staring off intently into the distance, so he sat down on the grass and leaned back on his hands until eventually he laid flat on the ground to watch the clouds. He watched them mindlessly for what could have been minutes or an hour before Dipper's face appeared above his with an amused expression masked by the shadow he was making.

"I wasn't gone that long, was I?" He joked.

"Couldn't say," Norman admitted. "I tuned out. Did you get the journals?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Guess they weren't home. It's bad of them to leave the doors unlocked, but they could just be avoiding me. It's an awkward situation."

"Sure. Are you ready to start heading back, then?" Norman looked at Dipper with a sense of curiosity when he noticed a flash of something cross his face.

Dipper reached out a hand wordlessly and helped Norman up who absently dusted the grass from his clothes as they began the long trek back. The silence was not awkward, but not without weight, Dipper felt the need to talk less because he got the sense if he talked too much now it would just come out as small talk. He didn't want to have to revert to that, he and Norman were a bit closer than lighthanded small talk, after all.

"So, what is in the journals? You didn't exactly elaborate." Norman asked, his curiosity growing. "I mean, this isn't exactly the best time to take a field trip, you know."

"There's something in here that can help, I'm sure of it. But once I find out which ones are around the time I was here in Gravity Falls before, there may be bits of info from the old journals Ford wrote in there. He travelled dimensions, timelines, and encountered creatures not even mentioned in worldwide folklore they're so obscure." 

Dipper stopped walking, turning to face Norman as a car drove past them on the street, causing them to move further in on the sidewalk. A brisk wind began to kick up, giving them a bit of a chill. 

"I just need to try, okay? I feel guilty enough not being around my Gruncles and old friends here when I had every opprotunity to come back. Now this whole mess, it kinda feels like my fault, even though I know it isn't." 

Norman nodded, "Come on. They're waiting on us. We'll get through this, somehow."

...

They arrived at the inn in silence, the dark of night nearly at their doorstop. They walked in to the room in complete disarray. Gregg asleep on the floor next to Wirt who is scrunching his face in displeasure at a laptop. Coraline staring at her tarot cards with a blank look, Wybie with a few books open around him looking between them, and Mabel pushing the book against her face in hopes of absorbing the information by osmosis.

"We're back," the boys announced, met with a collection of groaned hellos. "Sorry we took so long... we went by to see Stan and Ford, plus we ran into Gideon."

Mabel inhaled sharply involuntarily at the sound of his name, they hadn't really spoke it aloud in a long time. It was almost like a curse when spoke aloud to the twins, and here Dipper said it without hesitation (even if a little disgusted).

"Well, the online searching has lead me to nearly every D&D wiki, creepypasta, or fictional character with fur, sharp teeth, and a thirst for blood but none of them seem like our Beast unless I completely missed something." Wirt supplied.

"I'm not getting anything remarkable from the cards," Coraline admitted, "aside from a new appreciation for the handpainted artwork on the cards."

"All I have is a headache," Mabel whined, "I'm gonna need reading glasses after all this. I feel like my eyes aged 50 years."

"Well, I have it narrowed down to at least 7 creatures. Good news is that cross-referencing these will narrow it down further. Bad news, that's still a lot more time we would be devoting to figuring out what this thing is and not getting rid of it." Wybie leaned back, popping his knuckles.

"Well, what are they? I can check my journals and see if anything lines up." Dipper pulled off his bag excitedly, sitting on the floor and spreading them out in front of him.

Wybie sighed, looking at a piece of paper where he wrote names, book titles, and page numbers down. "The ones that seemed most likely were: werewolf, amarok, chupacabra, fenrir, kludde, nandi bear, and skinwalkers. I mean there could be even more not in these books."

"A lot of those don't sound native to the United States." Mabel sighed, "But who's to say whether they travel for food or not. This sucks."

"No kidding," Wirt muttered, "Norman, you and Dipper keep looking, I think the rest of us all need a break from this madness. Come help yourself to dinner in a little while."

He stood up slowly and picked up Gregg, taking him to bed while the others went to the kitchen. Dipper and Norman shared a look before splitting the stack of journals in half and beginning to read. It was going to be a long night. They just hoped there wouldn't be any more dead bodies while they tried to find the solution. 


	16. Volumes of Forgotten Lore

They shared the paper in a small spot between them, reading their own stacks. Norman was given Ford's old journals while Dipper read his own for the sake of a semblance of (unneeded) privacy. Aside from a few sappy lines in the journals about Wendy, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Dipper found something he had been looking for, though-- a passage about something Ford noticed in the woods, in passing, a story Ford told him that he recounted briefly in his journal, followed by a piece of a page ripped out from a book taped under it.

Dipper tapped Norman's shoulder, setting the journal in Norman's lap with his finger pointing to the passage, "Read here."

The sounds of the others in the kitchen, talking, utensils clinking against plates, and the faint sound of the radio from the kitchen were the only sounds. Norman read quietly, then after finishing the passage he took a deep breath and sighed.

"Think this thing might be connected?" Norman asked. "Where did you get this book page?"

"Ford found it after he encountered it, when he told me the story he gave it to me to go with it. I don't think he really believes in what he saw, he said he was tired and he could have been dreaming."

"If I saw a snake talking, I would probably think it was a dream too. If it was a dream, it's oddly specific... Though, I guess it could be related. Who's to say a human-devouring wolf and a talking snake have nothing to do with each other?" Norman rolled his eyes, half sarcastic.

"The page is from an old book on, uh, native american legends, I think? I don't recognize the name of the legend it's referencing but the name... I feel like I've heard it somewhere..." Dipper wondered aloud, then raised his voice to reach the others in the room beside them. "Any of you guys know anything about western-hemisphere indigenous folklore?"

"Wybs does, although you're talking pretty broad I'm not sure where you mean" Coraline offered, finishing her plate and washing it in the sink. "His gram's family tree has roots in a native mexican tribe out of... Zapotec, right? She told us a few stories over the years. Why?"

"Ever heard of...? Wow. Not even going to try to pronounce that." Norman laughed. "Let me spell it: T-E-Z-C-A-T-L-I-P-O-C-A. According to this entry, it is a god that appears as a talking black and yellow snake that resembles a, uh, Mohave Shovel-nosed Snake? It also can take other forms like that of a blood-jeweled fowl-- whatever that is-- and a jaguar, and as a black and yellow tiger moth."

"It's a turkey," Wybie grinned. "Blood-jeweled fowl is basically a turkey. She never really told me any stories about ol' Tezzy, she said the stories were often really dark and inappropriate for a child. I can call her up, though, see what she says. Maybe she knows something."

"Yeah, it can't hurt." Norman looked at what he had read so far and so far found nothing of use. "I'm getting nowhere in my stack of journals."

"You two go eat," Wirt offered. "I'll clean up."

The two thanked Wirt, joining Mabel in the kitchen as Coraline and Wybie went onto the back stoop outside to call Mrs. Lovatt on speaker.

Mabel had her head laid down sideways on the table, watching Wybie and Coraline talking on the phone. Admittedly, she felt a little alone in all this. With her partner-in-crime/twin spending more time with Norman, then with Wybie and Coraline already on the fringe of their group because they knew each other so long (and were dating, to boot). Then, with Wirt and Wendy so much older and Gregg so young, she felt a little lonely.

Vaguely, Mabel wondered how her old friends were doing, but did not dwell for long, they all lost touch (seemingly mutually) with none going out of the way to seek out the others. After a few initiations of hellos in their old group chat, none answered, she had given up a year or so ago.

So, she played third wheel now. She was almost tempted to wonder what Gideon was doing at that moment, _almost_. Then, her curiosity getting the better of her, she interrupted Dipper and Norman's chat about some cheesy, vampire slasher-movie and asked about Gideon.

"Gideon..." She whispered, uncomfortable with the sound of his name. "How was he?"

"He seems okay, actually." Dipper spoke quietly, "He works for Pacifica's parents, and he has lived alone in the woods more or less since we left. He seems to be doing okay. He's grown up a lot, he seems less... troubled."

Dipper was honest, which surprised Norman but also bothered him in a way he couldn't place. He didn't see how Gideon acted before now, but killing the twins? The boy he met earlier looked incapable of doing such a thing. Gideon just seemed sad, but he wondered if he should tell the twins so. Looking at the stern look on Dipper's face, and the downtrodden look on Mabel's he figured maybe not.

"Oh, okay." Mabel nodded.

Dipper excused himself to the bathroom while Norman scooted himself into the seat beside her. He looked at the direction Dipper had gone then whispered to Mabel in a voice so quiet she had to strain to hear. Over the sound of books rustling as Wirt picked them up, the muffled voices of Coraline and Wybie outside, the ceiling fan in the room next door, and the radio quietly humming a tune; Mabel struggled to focus her hearing on just Norman's voice.

"Mabel, was he really that bad? Gideon?" Norman asked. "I admit, while people can change, I have dealt with my fair share of bullies and he does not seem like one."

Mabel nodded, "He was, yeah. I mean, I can sorta chalk up his possessiveness of me to how he was spoiled and his age but he was really scary then. He had the power to take what he wanted by force. That's not the kind of power that should be in the hands of a 9 year old. Ever."

Norman nodded, sensing she had more to say, so he remained quiet. After a moment, she continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if he had changed, though. Dipper and I did, and he went through much more than us. Who's to say he didn't turn a new leaf? I did think about him sometimes, over the years. Wondered if he ended up in juvenile hall, or jail again, or... dead, even. I can't imagine having to live with the things he did. I would like to confront him, though. Just once."

"If you want to see him, I can take you, even if Dipper doesn't want to go. Maybe he can help, you never know. He knew about the killings, maybe he knows something only someone who lives in those woods would know." Norman offered, eyes checking occasionally to see if Dipper returned. He didn't like feeling like he was going behind Dipper's back but it was harmless curiosity.

Right?


	17. The Harbinger of Three

Norman didn't have much time to dwell on the thought before Dipper returned, Mabel leaving the table to watch TV in the living room. He did genuinely believe that this Gideon person could be useful, but it was too late to worry about it today. His thoughts were interrupted by Wybie bursting into the room, using his fingers to scribble in the air miming his need for a pen and paper.

Norman was quick enough to find the needed items in the junk drawer and handed them to Wybie with the same urgency the younger boy's expression showed. He wrote a few gnarled sentences down before checking over what his grandmother was telling him over the phone.

"Okay, so just to recap- this Tezzy guy is a patron god of all that stuff you said, but he has nothing really to do with these animal attacks. Could these attacks have been done by something like this?"

The others looked at him in confusion, at a loss of the other half of the conversation. Dipper tried reading the scrawled handwriting for clarity but gave up in an instant.

"Okay, so not him. He's neutral by nature, but what about his opposite? Quetza-whatever? Of course not. That would be too easy, wouldn't it? Sorry, I'm not angry this is just a difficult- wait, what? Wait, hold on. Hold on one second, gram'a." Wybie grabbed Dipper by the shoulder, "She said she just remembered something. She remembers there being an evil dog in the old stories but it wasn't _really_ a dog. It's the twin god of this Quetza guy who is related to this Tezzy guy and _that_ could be what we're after. It's as good a lead as any, these stories always tell of these gods being shapeshifters. It would explain how this thing went unnoticed."

"Get more info, write it down, we can look into it more when you get off the phone. Write down as much as you can about all three, it could easily be another creature posing as them to throw us off track. " Dipper insisted, putting the pad of paper in front of him, "Make sure you can read all that you write. We can rest for the night and pick up in the morning, converge with Wendy again and see if anything else has come up. Sound good?"

The five of them nodded collectively, Coraline watching with an odd silence as her hand clenched the cards in her pocket. Mabel was quiet, mind racing.

Wirt watched them talking from the couch, a pillow clutched in his hands as he wondered why these kids had to have such a weight on their shoulders. Wondering what happened to kids who got to play outside with friends, or play games all hours of the night, or read scary stories without the fear that those nightmarish creatures truly exist.

They went their seperate directions, some to prepare for a long night and others to change into comfortable clothes. Wirt stayed glued to the couch, pretending to watch TV. In times like this, he missed Beatrice.

Wybie continued taking notes, his grandmother's patience strengthened given their dire situation. She scoured her brain, trying to remember the stories told to her in her youth over fifty years ago and knowing that the finer details could mean the life or death of another person weighed on her like an anvil. She wanted to help, and glad to find herself of use, but dreading what it all could mean.

...

Dipper found Norman sitting alone in the room they all shared, in his pajamas and looking through his idea notebook. His expression was conflicted, eyebrows furrowed and his feet up in the chair he sat.

"Norm, what's the matter?" He asked, wondering why he even bothered to ask given their current situation.

"My parents," he whispered, voice catching from disuse as he cleared his throat. "They haven't checked in one me once. My sister hadn't either. I'm not sure if I'm happy about it or not, seeing as I don't know how I could ever explain all this to them. Disregarding they would probably never believe me anyway, this is a whole other level of crazy."

"Ours haven't contacted us either, they usually just assume we're okay-- having too much fun to contact them first, I guess." Dipper sat beside Norman, leaning his head on the back of the sofa. "We used to leave voicemails, but it just ends up being a game of phone tag so we stopped trying."

"Oh... I'm sorry." Norman finally looked up from his notebook, closing it. He tried for a humorous approach, sarcasm thick in his voice, "I mean, we are having fun, aren't we? Meeting nymphs and gnomes and gods to defeat some unstoppable beast like we're in some Greek epic-- heroes of our own story?"

Dipper choked out a laugh, "You're right about that. Kids dream about being heroes, I guess they don't think about all the hard stuff that makes you one."

Dipper fell silent, exhaling slowly as he looked at Norman with a somber frown, "I appreciate what you did the other day, when I was having that nightmare. As stupid as it sounds, this is far from the worst I've been... When we first left the Falls, every time I saw a yellow triangle I reflexively screamed and shook. It didn't matter if it was a caution sign or a chip on a package, my mind screamed it had to be Bill. Waiting for me, watching my every move, desperate to act in revenge against me. I don't panic anymore, but being in this has given me a weird sense of calm. I guess it's because I know that my sister and I aren't really alone in this anymore."

"I'm glad I met you in the bookstore," Norman smiled, "I had seen you before, but I was a bit scared to talk to you. I'm not exactly what people look for in friends, what with the zombie obsession and seeing-ghosts thing."

"Well, you're my kind of friend." Dipper grinned. Suddenly getting an idea, he rushed out of his chair to give Norman a noogie.

"Dude, dude!" Norman laughed, struggling weakly to get free, "Not the hair! It's messy enough as it is!"

The two eventually quit with their faces red from laughing, Dipper gave Norman a brief hug, "I'm glad I met you too."

Mabel wolf whistled from the doorway, grinning at the two, "Norman and Dipper, sitting in a tree-- Oh crap!" She yelled, interrupted by the sudden need to run away from her furiously blushing brother, screaming at her as he chased her down the stairs.

Norman flushed, alone again in the bedroom as he stared at his feet, "Nah, he doesn't... He couldn't..." He covered his face with his hands, his face heating up and laughed incredulously, "God, this is stupid."

Norman picked up his notebook and pencil and went back to work, doing a short film outline based on their current god-hunt.


	18. Out For Blood

They all slunk into the room eventually, each one more exhausted than the last.

Wybie fell asleep with his clothes on the moment he sat down, too tired to even exit the room to change.

Dipper and Norman did not talk about what happened in the room earlier, partially due to embarrassment and partially due to a foreboding feeling on both their sides of it, they fell asleep quickly their backs barely touching in a sense of comfort.

Coraline fell asleep easily enough after putting a short ponytail on her head to ease her morning hair routine for the next day.

And with that, no one saying their goodnights, the room fell quiet.

Frogs and crickets talked noisily outside, the wisping of trees an occasional break in pattern as the night wound down. Normally, the lull of nature (that they experienced so little in their suburb in California) would relax her and lull her to sleep, but now it just felt oppressive to Mabel.

Mabel, last one awake but still exhausted, wondered and fretted about her dream. She _had_ seen those things in her dream, hadn't she? She didn't misremember them, right?

She couldn't remember them clearly when she had woken up then but she remembered them in detail now. The thing she saw had been a black sphere (almost like a crystal ball), shining a refection in the light above, it looked like a shiny, mirror-smooth type of stone--

 _Obsidian, maybe?_ she thought. 

Those animals seemed familiar too, but she couldn't remember exactly what they were. She remembered the look of it morphing from one shape to another in quick succession.

 _But what animals were they, again?_ She counted them off on her fingers: _A snake, a turkey, a jaguar, a moth... Woah-- Holy shit_ , she thought, jumping out of bed.

Ignoring Coraline's sleepy grunt in protest at the movement, she swiftly (but quickly) bolted down the stairs. She saw Tezcatlipoca in her dream, _before_ she was aware what forms he took. Reinvigorated by her sudden fear-triggered adrenaline, she tore through Wybie's notes muttering to herself.

She was startled by the light flicking on with Wirt looking worse for wear, but an amused expression on his face. "Have an epiphany?"

Once her heart calmed from the shock, hand over her heart, she managed a half-hearted smirk, "Absolutely. You'll think I'm crazy, but yeah, it's a big break."

"Aren't we all crazy? We're the primordial example of nutcases, don't you think? A bunch of kids, and in my and Wendy's cases young adults, trying to stop some creature-thing that's murdering a bunch of people-- researching with the help of folktales, outdated college textbooks, and rambling journals." He sat on the couch beside her, trying to adjust his knobby legs under the coffee table, narrowly avoiding knocking his knee. "So what's the deal?"

"I think this god, Tezzy, or whatever-- was _in_ my dream. Better yet, I think he was trying to contact me somehow."

"You think a god-- who's a couple thousand years old _at least_ \-- contacted you, personally, in a dream?" Wirt poorly veiled his skepticism, expression exasperated.

"Why do I hear doubt in your voice?" Mabel pursed her lips in irritation, squinting at him. She knew she sounded really out-there right now, but so is everything else going on at that moment.

"I believe you-- I do-- it's just..." Wirt sighed, thinking.

Wirt took a breath and laid his head on the back on the couch, a small raised scar showing under his jaw that Mabel never noticed before. It looked like it must have been gnarly before, but was nearly healed now.

After a moment, he continued. "Just... Wow. Uh, how do you plan on getting in contact again? I mean, is he... a Good Guy in all of this mess?"

"Honestly?" Mabel laughed, "Beats me. Need to get a decent internet connection and look up some Aztec mythos. Only place in Gravity Falls internet seems to be reliable is the library and they lock most websites. It'll be a treat getting through that. Wikipedia hopefully still works, though."

"It will," Wirt assured. "How else would any kid in town avoid reading books for essays? Cliffnotes are irrelevant nowadays."

After a few moments of silence, Wirt closed the book gently on Mabel's hand and whispered in his perfected only-want-the-best-for-you big brother voice and smiled knowingly.

"The computer lab at the library doesn't open for hours. Get some rest. You'll need it."

Mabel wanted to object but nodded, knowing full well that Wirt was right. All the notes that _could_ have been compiled so far _have_ been compiled, no point in running in circles.

She made her way slowly upstairs, giving a timid wave to Wirt who nodded in acknowledgement and went back to bed.

As she fell asleep, she wondered, what is the connection of Tezzy to the rest of it? It doesn't fit. Something is missing.

...

Gregg was the first to start walking around the inn after Mabel and Wirt's talk. At just after sunrise he was already wide awake and looking over the stuff Mabel had wrote on her own notes as well as Wybie's and felt a surge of interest. Sure, he didn't understand all of it, but a few things stood out in his mind. 

His mind, young but perceptive, felt he may be on to something. He waited until Wirt trodded out of his room to wake the teenagers when his voice carried across the room in a way that echoed slightly in the modestly furnished room.

"Wirt, So-low-tull is coming. I can feel it."

"So-low-- wait, Xolotl? Are you sure?" Wirt asked, looking over his younger brother's shoulder in hopes to see whatever his little brother was seeing.

"Mhmm." Gregg nodded, "He knows we're after him. He's scared."

"They're just kids, how is he--"

"Because they've done it before. Mabel and Dipper did." 

"How do you know that?" Wirt asked, holding his brother by the shoulders and looking with concern into his brother's eyes.

Per usual, Gregg seemed unphased and shrugged his shoulders, "I eavesdrop when I'm bored."

Wirt, unamused, but not going to scold his brother, set his priorities to alerting the others. Despite his brother's naïve nature, his instincts were good and if he insisted this Xolotl was coming, he was sure that was the case. Everyone was woken up, groggy but understanding and took the news somberly but without meaning. They _had_ just woken up, after all.

It took getting dressed and halfway through walking down the stairs when Dipper lost his balance and leaned heavily on the railing as the realization hit him.

"Xolotl... I know who it is."

"What do you mean _who?_ " Mabel asked, before it began to dawn on her too. Her face went sickly pale.

"He called himself that, didn't he? When we defeated him... He said he would be back, that Xolotl would be back." She had to fight a wave of nausea as she leaned on Norman for support.

"Bill Cipher is back..." Dipper clarified, "and clearly he's out for blood this time."


	19. Xolotl's Red Dawn

The lot of them ate breakfast in silence, each quietly thinking up their own plans for how to go about this now. Time was sifting by very quickly and while they slept, Bill's new form could have easily stabilized. This wild beast, which was murdering the locals in small magnitudes, was clearly an accumulation of power. Then, once stable, who's to say he wouldn't go back to his old tricks? The room was quiet enough to hear a pen drop.

Mabel setting her dishes in the sink had made them all flinch wordlessly, "I'm going to the library, get some final information. Hopefully, Bill didn't kill enough citizens to warrant closing the place."

Dipper looked at her as if she grew another head from her neck, he never heard his seemingly-unflappable sister talk like this. However, given the circumstances, he sympathized with her bitterness.

"Sure, Mabel. I'm going to call Gruncle Stan and Ford today, want me to pass a message?"

"Tell them to leave town, if they want some peace and quiet for once." Mabel was unusually foul, going upstairs to grab her bag and the notes they'd made with a spare notebook and pens.

The room was quiet, awkward, as they poked at the remains of their breakfast. None of them really wanted to go out, so they silently opposed leaving the inn and stayed firmly planted in their seats. Mabel was the only one who was frustrated enough to squash her fear and thicken her skin.

"I've got my phone, keep me updated." She muttered, leaving without another word, slamming the door behind her. 

She used to love sunny days; the warmth of the sun on her skin, the sound of animals flitting about their daily lives, and everyone going about their business. However, as these days dragged on, it seemed to get more and more quiet with the life draining wordlessly from the town. She hated it. She resented the sun now, which reminded her less of pleasant warmth, but of sunburns.

The maple trees seems faded and dreary, and the streets themselves nearly empty. Clearly, it seemed the town was minimizing outings to save themselves from a death by the hand of an unnamed Beast, a god thirsting for blood. No one could see the connections their little group did, and _how could they_ , it's not as though their similarity was a visible thread to connect them. 

...

The familiar library, small and cozy, with the scent of the nearby shops emanating the assorted scents of baked goods, gave her a sense of normalcy. That is, until she stepped inside.

The library, ran by a skeleton crew, and a tired-looking woman with loose clothes and unkempt hair sitting at the desk in a daze.

Her websearch was much more successful than she had initially planned, but still seemed to not have nearly enough information for their purposes. Her search was now a battle for survival, not historical interest. Not enough information to be found, and so much seemed to overlap that she took notes that she read aloud as she went to keep it all straight.

"Quetzalcoatl and Xolotl, twin sons of the virgin Coatlicue, are mythic foils of each other in every way. Quetzalcoatl, the godhead of the wind element, the dawn, as well as, arts-slash- crafts, and learning-slash-knowledge. Also, as the patron god of the Aztec priesthood, he is generally considered a true benevolent god who by the religions standards did not typically require forms of sacrifice in exchange for aid.

  
"In contrast, Xolotl is the godhead of the element of fire, the evening star, death, twins, monsters, misfortune, sickness, deformities and the underworld. Dogs, were to this god, a form of psychopomp who were believed to lead the soul on its journey to the underworld.

"Tezcatlipoca, brother of Quetzalcoatl-- wait a second-- what?" She stopped in her tracks.

None of what she found thus far had created any real connection with the three before, and Xolotl is not listed as a brother of Tezcatlipoca. After more research, she found the discrepancy: Tezzy was a Mayan god, Xolotl an Aztec god, and Quetzalcoatl was both due to the overlap in culture. So, by human standards, its brother versus brother (and half-brother, somehow). It made their tension make a little bit more sense, but for the sake of staying on track she went back to writing her notes.

"Anyway... Tezcatlipoca, brother of Quetzalcoatl," she wrote, "the patron god of warriors, also stood as the godhead of the night sky, ancestral memory, time, and the embodiment of change through conflict. He was depicted as eternally youthful, in line with what he represented to his people, sometimes holding an obsidian orb or mirror."

A link caught her eye, referring to number symbology. Upon glancing through it, her heart sunk a little: 3, the number of gods involved in all this, represented sacred war; and 5: her, Dipper, Coraline, Wybie, and Norman, representative of rupture and overcoming.

She didn't bother to write those down, her mood depleted. The sound of the thundering library door as she collected her things drew her attention, and what she saw nearly made her bowl over in surprise: Gideon.

He looked... different. It's all she could think to describe him with, other than the fact he didn't look like such a brat anymore. He toned down his flamboyant and bitter attitude, clearly, she thought as she watched him interact with the librarian. He seemed more reserved now... polite, _humble_ , even.

Gideon turned, finally noticing her, and a tentative smile lit up his face, "My my, Mabel, just as pretty as ever."

Mabel blinked furiously, _what the hell?_

Gideon, making his way to her, seemed almost _cute_ in the way his hair was swept back as a callback to his younger days but less over-the-top and nearly _normal_. The thought of him being attractive, even remotely with their age difference, made her squirm.

"Oh, hi, Gideon. My brother said he saw you, that you're... living in the woods now."

"I wouldn't say that," he chuckled, his upper lip curling in a grin. "I am on the Northwest property, technically, so it's not as though I live in the thick of it."

Gideon's charm unnerved her, partially due to the sheer personality gap between the boy she knew and the one standing in front of her, and partially due to the fact that this dumb kid managed to stay alive in the same _exact_ neck of the woods the murders happened. A few miles, sure, nothing he would come across but definitely in the crosshairs. Unless--

"Do you have a girlfriend-- Or, well, a boyfriend or something? I don't judge." Mabel asked, point-blank.

Gideon's lightly-tanned skin turned firetruck red in an instant, "N-no, that's not something I really, ha" he chuckled nervously, shifting gears to a joking tone. "Asking for a friend?"

"All the victims were virgins, and we think Bill has something to do with it, I'm just wondering how you're still kicking." She muttered suspiciously.

Gideon got a dark look on his face, mirrored in hers, as though they shared the same thought: _Bill-- or Xolotl (as Mabel and the others have come to know him)-- possessed him once, who's to say he wouldn't do it again?_

"See you around, Gideon." She pushed past him, leaving him behind as the large door slammed loudly behind her. She exhaled sharply, and maybe her suspicions were right-- the thought was terrifying. **** ****


	20. The Hand That Feeds

Gideon felt a wave of apprehension as Mabel left him alone in the library. He began to hyperventilate as he rushed out the door behind him to follow her, he caught up to her stride with ease. The mid-afternoon sun was hot and uncomfortable.

"Mabel, what's going on? You think Bill's after me again? I just-- I don't want to consider it. I don't wanna be a pawn again!" Gideon drawled, his fear evident as the hand that grabbed Mabel's shoulder to halt her shook as he removed the hand apologetically.

"Anything weird happen? Anything you remember?" Mabel asked, crossing her arms. She tried to squash the feeling she was wasting her time.

"You'll think it's stupid but--"

"Spit it out."

"I've been sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking?" Mabel scoffed, "That's the big reveal? _Sleepwalking_?"

"Every night for weeks I wake up with dirt on my feet, leaves in my sheets with no memory of leaving my cottage, and a few nights ago..." Gideon bit his lip, looking around before lowering his voice. "I found blood spatter on the cuffs of my pajama pants that wasn't mine. The next morning I heard they found a body."

"Come with me. If that's true, we need to keep you under lock and key." Mabel adjusted her backpack securing the straps on her shoulders.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Gideon half-joked, eyes darting for an escape route.

"Nope." Mabel gritted her teeth, sidestepping behind Gideon and wrenching his arm behind his back.

"Ow! What the hell, Mabel?!" Gideon yelled, the few passersby that were out watching with mild interest.

"Didn't trust you then, don't trust you now. New leaf or not, I can't risk others getting hurt because of you-- _again."_ She emphasized with a tug on the arm, earning a squeak of pain from Gideon. "I wish it wasn't such a long walk... Guess I can catch a ride..."

Mabel saw that Wendy's house was in close proximity and figured she'd understand her distrust better than anyone. Once she got to the door, she kicked the door a few times with the toe of her shoe to make sure she did not take her hands off Gideon's arm.

Gideon squirmed uncomfortably, "This really isn't necessary, I won't run."

"Funny thing, but I don't believe you. Now shut _up_." She had never felt such a strong urge to kick the legs out from under someone before. She wasn't a violent person, but Gideon just brought that out of her.

"Mabel!" Wendy grinned, before noticing Gideon and her face fell to bored interest, "Oh geez, this is a business call, I see."

"Need a ride to the inn, got any rope?" Mabel smiled cheekily, "Don't trust him to not run away."

She held up a finger with an inquiring look of concern, as though she was going to say something, but stopped herself, "Yeah. I'll get my stuff. Give me a sec'."

...

  
It took about five minutes of Gideon being hogtied in the truckbed, driving to the shack, for Wendy to ask the reason for Gideon's current predicament.

"Well, based on what he said, Bi-- I mean Xolotl-- got his hands on Gideon as a vessel again. He said he's been sleepwalking with no memory of how he spent that time, said he even found blood on him once the night before a body being found was announced." Mabel informed Wendy, who was taking the situation with surprising calmness.

"Ever considered it was his own blood? There weren't any evidence of humans other than victims at the crime scenes." Wendy asked, turning left and Gideon sliding in the truck bed and hitting the side with a thud and a grunt.

"Actually..." Mabel wondered, opening the back window slat. "Gideon, how do you know the blood you found wasn't just yours? If you'd been walking around in the woods, maybe you cut yourself."

Gideon looked up at her from his position on his side and rolled his eyes, "Because the blood was still _wet,_ Mabel, and I didn't have any marks on me other than the dirt on the bottom of my feet. I hope the rest of your group are more hospitable than you M, 'cus my childhood crush on you is disappearing at a breakneck pace."

"Don't care," Mabel humphed, sliding the window back.

"We're here," Wendy muttered, "better untie the hostage."

Mabel exited the car and came around the side, Gideon's hair messed up, clothes disheveled, and a rotten look on his face.

"You won't run, _right_ , Gideon?" Mabel asked expectantly, Wendy heading inside on her own to alert the others.

"Guess not, be concerned what happened to me if I did." Gideon admitted, a thin look of disgust on his face.

Mabel sized him up and nodded, "Your hands will stay tied, I'll untie your legs so you can stand."

Gideon laughed, some of his good humor returning, "Suppose I'll take what I can get."

The others came out with a range of expressions from curious to a scream of surprise from Wybie, "That's him! The one I saw in the woods!"

"Well, that confirms it then..." Gideon sighed.

Mabel smiled smugly to herself, "Not so crazy for tying you up now, huh, Gideon?"

"To think I used to like you--" Gideon grumbled.

"Think I owe you a kidnapping or two, being my former stalker and all." Mabel rolled her eyes, earning a look of shame from Gideon who curled in on himself. Wybie strode over with interest.

"You're the vessel? Huh, look different than I imagined." Wybie muttered, helping Gideon out of the truck bed before sitting him at a bench nearby.

Wybie stood looming over Gideon, while the rest converged on the porch. Gideon looked up at him with eyes squinted as Wybie only somewhat blocked the sun from his eyes.

"Gideon, right?" Wybie asked, not really waiting for an answer before continuing. "What were you doing in the woods off the property here? Spying on us for Xolotl?"

"Xola-whata? Have marbles in your mouth?" Gideon asked, visibly confused. Then, as his eyes darted between everyone his mood shifted to anger, "Alright, someone tell me what the hell is going on!"

Dipper, seeming apprehensive of the conversation about to happen, heaved a sigh, "The murders by this Beast thing, it's Bill somehow. He's trying to brace up his true form, as the god Xolotl. He's murdering who we believe to be virgins, as sacrifice to regain his power. If you're his vessel, this is your fault too."

"Clearly, I don't have a choice in the matter!" Gideon yelled, frustrated, "I let him in the first time but I wouldn't do that now! I don't want that psycho crawling around in my head, knowing what he's done! Untie me and let me go. I doubt holding me hostage will make him _happy_ , if anything!"

Gideon flicked his neck to the side to try to get hair out of his face but when it fell again in front of his eyes he growled in irritation, "Besides, Wendy," Gideon looked defiant now, a little like his former self. "You could lose your job over this. Couldn't you?"

Wirt, who had been watching slackjawed with Wendy and Gregg, suddenly spoke up, "He's right, we could be inciting the Beast to come here and cut us down before we figure out what to do. We're vulnerable out here anyway. Let him go. We don't need him."

Coraline, who had remained silent, playing with the tips of her hair, quietly agreed. "We don't know for sure. We're putting ourselves in danger on a hunch."

"It is _not_ a hunch!" Mabel yelled, "I'm right about this, I know it!"

"We don't have a choice," Norman muttered. "He's right. This is bigger than us. Wendy could lose her job, Wirt could get in trouble too. _We_ could get in trouble. Just let him go. We can always round him up later if it's necessary. This was too rash, Mabel. I know you're itching for answers, we all are, but we have to be tactful about this."

Gideon sighed, annoyed, "I'll keep my mouth shut. Just... let me go. I'll take my own precautions."

Mabel looked between everyone, eyes falling last on her brother who did not rise to her defense, before letting out a wet sigh as her eyes began watering. "Okay. Fine. I get it."

Wybie untied Gideon, who rubbed his wrists painfully.

Gideon's voice was subdued and polite, his "southern charm" back if not for the minute shaking of fear in his voice, "Mind giving me a ride home, Miss Corduroy?"

Wendy, shocked by the title, nodded with a blush dusting her face, "Sure, I owe you that much."

Wendy and Gideon set off in the car silently, an awkward silence falling among them.

"I'll make dinner," Wirt said predominantly to himself, striding inside.

Mabel bounded inside, visibly upset, Dipper going after her to reassure her. Norman was next, Gregg holding his arm awkwardly and following close behind. Coraline and Wybie stood outside, leaning against the side of the inn for privacy.

"I have a really bad feeling about this," Coraline admitted. "Mabel bringing him here, we're not in danger, right?"

"We aren't sure Xolotl knew we were here before, but I'm sure he will now." Wybie stratched his head in frustration. "It was too rash. Hope this doesn't come back to bite us."


	21. Blood, Sweat, Tears

Coraline looked at the sky, picking off her nail polish absently as her expression grew sad, "I'm worried about your grandma."

"I'm worried too, but we can't bring her here, right? The house is warded, but we'd be inviting danger." Wybie muttered out loud, visibly uncomfortable.

"I know. I do, but shouldn't we check on her? Let her know we're okay?"

"We can do that over the phone, Cor," Wybie crossed his arms, shifting his weight. "It's dangerous even leaving the house now. Us even being off the porch is dangerous."

"I know, I _know_ ," she sighed, exasperated. "I don't know how to explain it. Ever since I drew those tarot over and over I feel like something is pulling me along, telling me to follow its lead. I know it's crazy, Wy, but I can't explain it other than it's extremely difficult to resist my urge to follow this gut feeling."

"I have a weird question..." Wybie asked, reflexively smacking her hand gently to get her to quit picking at her nails. "Have you looked at the cards at all since?"

"Honestly, I've been afraid to," she whispered, crossing her arms to keep from picking her nails any more. "That's a good point, though. Maybe... We'll look before we go. Maybe it could soothe my nerves."

The two went inside with a somber air about them, Dipper and Mabel quietly arguing with each other in the far corner of the room, Wirt in the kitchen, and Norman away with Gregg somewhere.

The two trekked up to the shared room and Wybie sat patiently as Coraline located her cards. Everyone sleeping in the same room had felt safer, more comfortable, but it was getting harder to fall asleep.

"I will just ask a question this time, I'll be more straightforward." She shuffled the cards brushing her fingers lightly over them as she shuffled, breathing deep before asking her question. "What fate lies in store for Gravity Falls?"

The card nearly made her bowl over, "Oh no..." She whispered, "We have to go. Now."

She left the cards on the bed as they scrambled down the stairs and left, the cards still on the bed-- the two of swords inverted: symbolic of an impossible choice, a choice between two evils.

...

  
After the two burst through the door, long gone, Norman, Mabel, and Dipper all exhaled sharply with worry. Mabel came back, phone in hand, "They did a reading. I looked it up. I don't know what they see coming but it's not good. Not like anything has been lately, but why not add fuel to the dumpster fire?"

Norman screamed, seeing the old ghost's face nearly pressed against the glass. It had never been so close before.

"What?!" Dipper yelled, trying to follow his line of sight.

"So, uh, I may have been _conveniently_ not mentioning a particular ghost I have been seeing since I got here and he keeps getting closer and closer... He's right in the window..."

"Well," Mabel fumbled awkwardly, "What does he look like?"

"Really old, haggard you know, thin, long white beard, he has this really crazy look in his eyes."

Dipper seemed to have a look of epiphany on his face, "He can hear us right, would he be able to communicate through you?"

"Maybe, it expends a lot of energy, so--"

"Is that you, McGuckett?!" Dipper yelled, hands around his mouth as he looked to the window.

The ghost winced, sticking his fingers in his spectral ears, thick drawl making the words nearly incomprehensible, "I may be dead, but I am not _deaf_ , Dipper Pines."

"I'm... guessing that's him," Norman shrugged, "Why have you been following us around? You've been creeping me out."

"I can't talk much, don't have the chance! Bill's back and he's coming!"

"We know he's back, we figured that out already!" Norman facepalmed, to which Dipper looked at him irritably and mumbled about not translating.

"No, he's _coming_! Now! Your friends are in danger!" He drawled, pointing toward the woods.

"Shit!" Norman stumbled, grabbing his phone and fumbling around, "They're in trouble. WIRT! We gotta go! WIRT!"

"What do you mean? They _just_ left a while ago!" Mabel insisted.

"Well, why don't _you_ ask the dead hillbilly?! We don't have time for this!" Norman sputtered, Dipper following behind and Mabel whispering her awkward thanks to thin air before running behind them to the van.

"Coming!" Wirt yelped, Gregg came out of his room and yawned, clearly having been taking a nap.

"I'll lock the door, be safe." Gregg smiled sleepily, following him to the door and locking it and checking all the windows before lying down on the counch instead.

...

  
Wybie and Coraline were more than halfway to the house, sprinting as fast as they could before they both ran out of juice and slowed to a walk.

"We should've asked for a ride," Wybie whined, his calves and lungs burning.

"Now you tell me," Coraline rolled her eyes. "I'm just so used to not asking adults for help, Wy."

"I know."

"We're almost there, wanna try to run the last bit?" Coraline muttered.

Wybie shook his head, "I'll call her, tell her we're close by."

He got out his phone and dialed, ringing busy, "I think she's on the phone with her bird watching club, she usually always answers."

"Stay on the line, then." Coraline insisted, the two of them walking as quickly as they could for as tired as they were.

The two stopped, less than 20 feet from the house when they heard something rustling in the nearby trees. They didn't even see the chupacabra, the Beast, until it had it's teeth sunk in Wybie's leg.

He let out a blood-curdling scream as it dragged him back into the woods, his nails digging and uprooting the soil as he was pulled. 

Coraline screamed, shaking, disconnecting Wybie's call to his grandmother to call the group.

  
The call picked up after 2 rings, "It got Wybie! It dragged him into the woods by Lathe Street, please hurry!"

She stood, watching the woods with tears in her eyes, her entire body tremoring as she waited for everyone to arrive.

...

  
She didn't wait long, the kids poured out of the back of the van and all of them tore after the drag marks.

When they found Wybie though, they were shocked to not only find him okay, but wailing on the Beast. Fists slamming hard into it's head, Wybie's hand dripped blood but it was hard to tell just who's it was. Hearing the 6 of them enter, Wybie turned and the distraction allowed the Beast just enough of a distraction to escape, whimpering as it ran.

Wybie's eyes were completely black, an eerie smile on his face as he flicked the blood with disinterest from his hand, "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Tezcatlipoca."


	22. Possession by a God of Old (and the really, really fine print of the Terms of Service)

"Or, well, _Tezzy_ , as you children have taken to calling me." The black-eyed Wybie grinned. "Shame it's come to this, and here I thought my brother gave up on all this nonsense."

His eyes terrified Coraline, it reminded her of the buttons. She grabbed the hem of her shirt to minimize how noticeably her hands were shaking.

"I'm sorry, what?" Coraline's lip shook, eyeing his knuckles, which had indeed been skinned and bleeding, "What happened to Wybie?"

"He's still in here," he tapped his temple with a finger. "I just needed to borrow him a little while. Hope you don't mind."

"Well, give him back!" She insisted, trying to not let her memory of the whole experience with Beldam scare her to tears.

"Let's all take a walk, shall we?" He said wispily, already setting off towards the van at the road. Everyone lined up beside him, all huddled close despite their apprehension to trust the god that seemed to be possessing Wybie.

"My brother has been wreaking havoc, as you well know," Tezzy gestured widely with Wybie's arm in a gesture much smoother and more confident than Wybie would, _a dead giveaway it wasn't truly Wybie_ , Coraline thought.

The entire atmosphere around Not-Wybie seemed different, thicker, more regal. He waved at Wirt in the van, who did a double take before waving weakly back from the distance. He could see the black eyes, even from a distance.

"He would like to bring back the old ways, though he wishes himself to be the only old god to rise. We wants the rest of us to keep to ourselves, to submit quietly. While I don't have so nobile a reason as wanting to protect humans, I know perhaps better than anyone that he cannot rise again. You twins saw him at well, perhaps, twenty-five percent of his full capabilities as you saw him those years ago. Pines children, should he obtain the sacrifices he needs-- he will be nearly invincible." At this, they approached the van and tumbled in, Tezzy choosing to sit off by himself as the rest looked to him. "Go on, I'll continue."

Wirt started the van without a word and stared listlessly at the road, the kids looked uncomfortable (save for the thing wearing Wybie's skin who seemed as relaxed as could be).

"That being said, I am quite a bit stronger when I borrow this form than manifesting my own. This is not to be said for Xolotl, or Bill as you twins came to know him, who finds much more power and comfort from drawing from his self-created chaos while I cannot find much power from the forces of my own abilities, which requires a _human_ touch. Memories, the energy of warriors, the embrace of personal growth from hardship-- you kids are a battery to me.

"Xolotl, on the other hand, is the warmongers' god. He is fueled by monstrosity, death, misfortune-- he is one half of a whole neutrality of balancing forces. Although, unfortunately, said other-half has grown weary of cleaning up after and keeping the leash tight on his dark twin.

"Quetzacoatl, in all his _infinite wisdom_ ," the sarcasm dripped from his voice, "is a damned pacifist; a worldly, artsy, lighthearted, _useless_ waste of godhood. He and Xolotl are much older than I, and thus, with the help of you children, and this vessel, I may very briefly keep Xolotl at bay. This is not a permanent ability, however, as I can merely fend him off and not defeat him, as you saw from the woods I can put up a fight, but not for long."

"Why Wybie?" Mabel asked, "Why not Dipper or I? We're older. We've dealt with B-- Xolotl before."

"You have been claimed by Xolotl, I may not touch you." Tezzy seemed somewhat disappointed by this too, "You are twins, of which he is patron god. I may not take that which is guarded by him, nefarious reasons or not."

"What about me, then?" Norman asked, shock still overtaking his fear. He and Wybie were not very close, not as close as he was with Dipper, but even he could feel how different this Not-Wybie was from the real one.

"This boy would have died, were I not there." Tezzy insisted, gesturing to his vessel, "You should be thanking me, not asking selfish questions like why I did not _choose_ you. Strange humans."

Coraline licked her lips, reaching out to touch the bloody hand that was Wybie's, but it did not hold his energy in those hands, "He's okay in there, right?"

"Perfectly fine," Tezzy assured, letting something slip in his expression quite close to a smile. "It's just like a toddler nodding off. He can hear and understand everything, just has trouble keeping his eyes open."

Not-Wybie continued, taking the hand away from Coraline that she tried to touch, "It isn't like a movie where I must not only ask permission, but fight to retain control. It's like puppetry, even if the boy was dead I could make him function through my will alone-- soullessness aside."

The car, having been stationary for a while, fell silent.

Wirt cleared his throat, "Please get out of my van now."

Everyone slunk out at differing paces, making their way to the front porch. Everyone stood on the porch but Tezzy, standing next to the street on the sidewalk, "I can't approach you know. Warded house, remember?"

A mix of awkwardness and relieved glances were exchanged among them, the lot of them sitting on varying steps of the porch to be closer.

"So what are you planning to get out of this?" Dipper piped in, "You said it yourself, you don't particularly want to save humans."

"I suppose I just enjoy in engaging in futile tasks," he grunted, kicking the pavement with the bottom of Wybie's shoe. "To be quite honest, I am hoping my involvement will inspire the powers-that-be to get off their lazy ass and put him in his place."

"Quetzacoatl, then. Your goal is to get him involved on our side," Dipper continued.

"At this point it doesn't even matter if it's our side, as long as he puts his dark half in it's place. Shutting the proverbial Pandora's box on them both is the ideal, but an unlikely outcome." Tezzy sighed, raising his hands in an oh-well gesture. "Xolotl will likely be very angry after today's skirmish, seeing as he hates my immortal guts and all. He'll be back sooner rather than later."

"Then why don't you just go on standby, lie dormant or something? We want Wybie back, he's our friend." Mabel insisted.

Everyone gave varying signs of agreement, to which Tezzy sighed dramatically, "Alright, sure. I'll give you back your stuffed bear, or what have you, just be more prepared next time. No more doing stupid things like going out on your own," at this, black eyes focused suspiciously on Coraline, "Got it, Coraline Jones?"

"I got it, I got it, just stop using my boyfriend's voice to scold me it's really weird," she cringed, mouth twisted in disgust.

"Alright then, until we meet again, little warriors." Tezzy grinned, eyes rolling back into his head.

Wybie fell to his knees, screaming at the top of his lungs before looking around, "Wait a minute, how are we back at the inn? Cor, did I hit my head?... like, really hard? Why don't I remember? Was I dreaming the whole beating the crap out of the Beast thing?"

"No," Norman insisted, "you were definitely wailing on him, it was just that you were tagged out by Tezcatlipoca and he tagged in to beat him into fleeing."

"That explains why my knuckles are skinned," Wybie sighed, "Really need some witch hazel on this, it stings."

"I'll take care of it," Coraline smiled selfconsciously, taking his hand and leading him inside.

"This whole thing is freaking bonkers," Mabel groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"You're telling me," Dipper rolled his eyes. "Feeling like we're in a series of unfortunate events that just progressively get more and more like a large game of 'how can I top this form of character torture with something even worse'. We never seem to catch a break."

"You mean like Percy Jackson?" Mabel asked.

"Eh," Dipper shrugged.

"Harry Potter, then."

"Yes, _exactly_ like that. Thanks, Mabel. Man what I'd give to be in _that_ story, right about now, instead of this." Dipper exhaled, defeated. "Come on, let's turn in. We should all try to get our minds off this mess for a few hours, maybe play some games."

"Sounds like a plan," Norman hugged Dipper around the shoulder before wrapping his arm around Mabel's too as an afterthought. "Let's all be teenagers for a little while. Be nice to get to know everyone better, don't want my summer checklist to be a total bust."

"You have a checklist?" Mabel choked back a laugh, "Nerd."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.  
> Look at me, name dropping like I'm some kind of Hip with the Kids© kinda person. Next chapter will be more laid back, get some character development back in and it'll be nice and chill. Stay tuned. x deathbyinsomnia


	23. Two Truths and A Lie

While the twins debated some sort of game they could play, Norman went off to find Greg and ask him if he had any games. Wybie and Coraline were in the upstairs bathroom, Wybie sitting on the toilet with Coraline sitting on the tub tending to his skinned knuckles.

"At least they stopped bleeding," she whispered to herself, wincing when Wybie would twitch with pain. "I'm so sorry Wy, I shouldn't have drug you out there. It's all my fault this happened."

"Don't worry about it. Did you call her back?" Wybie asked, eyes focused on Coraline's sad expression.

"Not yet," Coraline admitted. "Too worried about you. I'll call her when I'm done. That foreboding was probably a self-fufilled prophecy, I should know better, with all those times you made me watch The Matrix."

"Cor, you couldn't have known. You were trying to protect my grandmother, and me too. You were looking out for your own, no one can fault you for that."

"You could have died if it wasn't for--"

"Coraline," Wybie stated, stopping her in her tracks. Ne never really called her that anymore, just Cor. "Don't think about what could have happened, I'm right here."

Coraline sighed, trying not to get upset, reached to grab the bandages. "I know."

"Hey," Wybie smiled sweetly, "How about a kiss for the guy that kicked the Beast's butt?"

"Alright, Spooky, c'mere." She smiled, using her hands to hold each side of his face and give him a peck on the lips. "My hero."

He embraced her tightly, kissing her head, "I will love you forever, Coraline."

"Ah jeez, Cheesemiester, let go so I can bandage you up." Coraline wrenched herself away, blushing as she started wrapping his hand.

Wybie blushed too, smiling and pleased with himself, he enjoyed being the only person who could calm her down. It made him feel needed, wanted, and the fact it was Coraline was all that really mattered to him.

After a bit, they called her together. She was fine, in fact, she had no idea they called or anything even happened. They didn't tell her.

...

"So, nothing then." Norman responded.

Greg lying on his stomach and reading a copy of Ender's Game, licked his finger before turning the page, "Nope."

"Then do you want to play a game with us? Whenever we figure out what it is, that is."

Greg looked up at him with an expression well-worn by someone his age, as though anyone over the age of 14 were blundering idiots and clearly blind to facts, "This is a really good book, and third-wheeling is bad enough without being wheel number six. Thanks, though."

Norman left the room, gobsmacked and plopped down wordlessly on the couch next to Mabel who looked at him with interest, "I think Greg outgrew me in the past few days, how does that even happen?"

"That's rough, buddy." Dipper assented, patting him on the shoulder. "Anyway, we are down to three tried and true options, unless you have any card or board games."

"None to speak of," Norman sighed.

Wybie and Coraline walked down the stairs, Coraline walking ahead as they held hands.

"No seven minutes in heaven for you two," Mabel joked, earning protesting mumbles from the couple.

They sat in a circle: Mabel, Wybie, Coraline, Norman, and Dipper. A large bag of potato chips sat in the center, with a few bottles of water already there thanks to Mabel's preparedness.

"So we're down to Two Truths and A Lie, Truth or Dare, and Never Have I Ever." Dipper announced. "Any strong opposition?"

"Truth or Dare is asking for trouble," Coraline stated, opening and taking a sip of one of the waters, "Last time that happened, a girl in my gym class named Tameka had to stand on the bleachers and loudly recite the last 15 text messages she sent. Not happening."

"Fine, valid point." Mabel agreed, "But can dare be at least a loser punishment instead of a choice?"

Coraline's competitive side beat out her instincts of self-preservation, "Only if the punishment wins by majority vote."

"Sounds fair," Dipper assented. "So down to the last two. What thinks you, Norman and Wybie?"

"Eh, I don't really care." Wybie shrugged, "We'll get to know enough other regardless."

"Never Have I Ever seems more straightforward and is more like a competitive game." Norman offered, "Besides, Two Truths and a Lie can always be a fallback."

"Everyone agree?" Mabel asked, with nods from everyone, everyone putting a hand out with fingers splayed for the group to see. "Okay, good, I'll start. Never have I ever eaten Danish food."

No one lost the round.

M: 5  
W: 5  
C: 5  
N: 5  
D: 5

Wybie sighed with a lax smile, "Amateur, never have I ever seen a ghost."

Everyone but Wybie lost a point.

M: 4  
W: 5  
C: 4  
N: 4  
D: 4

"Damn it, not fair!" Coraline groaned, "Fine, if we're fighting dirty out of the gate, so be it Wybes. Never have I ever kissed a girl!"

Wybie groaned, pulling a finger in, and Dipper quietly losing a point too and tucking the finger in his palm. Everyone laughed, noticing Mabel trying to discreetly tuck away a finger.

M: 3  
W: 4  
C: 4  
N: 4  
D: 3

"It was a dare at a slumber party, okay!" Mabel squeaked.

"No judging," Coraline smiled, "just had to get back at Wybie for knowing we would all be down one but him."

Norman thought about his for a moment, "Never have I ever gotten suspended from school."

Everyone but Norman and Mabel lost a point.

M: 3  
W: 3  
C: 3  
N: 4  
D: 2

"Woah, seriously?" Norman asked.

"Wybie _may_ have helped me let all the frogs we were going to dissect one time." Coraline jokingly played coy.

Wybie laughed under his breath.

"Well, in my case, a guy picked a fight with me and kicked my ass but because of the zero tolerance policy I got suspended too." Dipper shrugged half-heartedly.

"That sucks, sorry." Norman whispered, unsure what to say.

The others chimed in similar sentiments.

" _Anyway_ ," Mabel tried steering the conversation back to competitive and cheerful. "Never have I ever met a witch. Come on Norman, Coraline, Wybie, in in!"

Norman took his in with a mirthless "ha-ha", Coraline shrugged, but Wybie protested he never really met her so he didn't count.

"Well at least Norman's not in the lead anymore," Dipper laughed, kicking him playfully from across the circle.

M: 3  
W: 3  
C: 2  
N: 3  
D: 2

Wybie looked at the hands around him and hummed to himself as he thought.

"Don't overthink it," Coraline warned. "Not fair."

"It's a game of winning or losing, fair is fair." Mabel shrugged, leaning back into a more comfortable position.

"Got one." Wybie smirked, looking at Coraline with a shit-eating grin. "Never have I ever had a doll made to look like me."

"Oh you bastard. Using Beldam against me." Coraline cursed, bumping his shoulder somewhat playfully, putting a finger away. "Targeting, man. So unfair."

Everyone was surprised to see Norman put a finger in, "My grandma made me one when I was little, when she was alive. I left it somewhere as a kid, I never got it back."

M: 3  
W: 3  
C: 1  
N: 2  
D: 2

Coraline stared at the current points out and rolled her eyes, muttering to herself, "This game sucks. Okay, fine. How about, never have I ever played sports?"

"Like on a team?" Dipper asked.

"In general," Coraline clarified.

"Damn," Dipper sighed, pulling a finger in.

Mabel and Wybie also lost a point.

M: 2  
W: 2  
C: 1  
N: 2  
D: 1

"Sport of choice?" Norman asked the group.

"Swam on a team for a while at the Y with Mabel," Dipper seemed fond of the memory, but was irritated he was one of the two losing.

"Soccer," Wybie grinned, "then I hit puberty, and with the vast extension of my limbs my coordination went to hell."

Norman thought about it a while before his turn, at a loss of things to try. He thought of one, but despite how pathetic it was he said it anyway.

"Never have I ever had a good relationship with my parents," Norman muttered.

All but Coraline put a finger away, to which made her chest tighten thinking about it.

M: 1  
W: 1  
C: 1  
N: 2  
D: 0

"Guess I lose," Dipper pointed out. "What's my punishment?"

"I can't think of anything, even though I won," Norman admitted, "I usually don't talk this much, honestly."

"You get to pick a person in the group to pretend your in a soap opera, have a fake argument, and they can smack you across the face." Coraline suggested, taking another sip of water with a look of triumph.

The group voted unanimously for it, unfortunately for Dipper. After glancing around, he couldn't help but laugh seeing how amused Norman looked, "Alright, I pick Norman I guess."

The two stood, face to face in the center of the circle, both of them desperately trying to think of something to say.

"Just make it up," Mabel encouraged, "like improv."

"I'm used to the other side of the lens," Norman joked, doing his best (albeit terribly) to channel the spanish soap opera he saw on cable once. "Uh, ok, uhm... I can't believe you! Cheating on me with the maid!"

"Well, it didn't _mean_ anything, did it?" Dipper tried awkwardly, out of his element as the other three snickered.

"It meant something to me, how heartless!" Norman yelled, a little into his character as he smacked Dipper just a too hard across the cheek.

The smack resounded and Norman immediately curled in on himself, seeing the welt he left on Dipper's face. They stared into each other's eyes for a while, Norman's hand began to shake minutely. He wanted to reach out but the eyes on him were making him sweat and feel even worse.

Norman tried to play it off with a short laugh, "Oops, I went overboard, I'm sorry."

Dipper smiled blankly, a weird expression compared to his usual face, "No problem, my bad."

The room fell silent, Wybie clearing his throat as Norman and Dipper sat back down in their spots in the circle. Norman tried to sneak a look at Dipper but he avoided eye contact.

"Two truths and a lie, then. Sound good?" Wybie insisted, "Dipper, you can start this time, everyone can guess, since we don't have to count points or anything. Reverse order. Dipper then Norman, and so on."

Dipper unconsciously rubbed his hand on his cheek, Norman pulling his knees up to his chest as he tried to quash the guilt.

"Alright, uh, Mabel isn't allowed to answer any of mine, but: I have a birthmark on my forehead, I can fold my tongue, and uh I can do one armed pushups."

"I call bullshit on the pushups," Coraline grinned, "With those noodle arms?"

Dipper clicked his tongue, getting into position and starting to do the one armed pushups. Everyone burst into laughter, even Norman chuckled to himself in surprise. Dipper only did about ten before flopping face first onto the carpet but the group clapped for him regardless.

"So what was the lie then?" Norman asked.

"I can't fold my tongue," Dipper laughed, lifting up his hair to show off his birthmark.

"Oh my god! The Dipper!" Norman scuttled across the floor to see it up close. The others, other than Mabel who got up to go to the bathroom, hovered to see as well.

"Your turn!" Dipper blushed, gently pushing Norman and the others back. He was still a little embarassed about the birthmark, still kept his bangs long enough to cover it.

"Ah ok." Norman settled back in, thinking it over, "I own 3 seperate copies of Evil Dead, I've never kissed anyone, and I have seen basically every zombie movie ever made."

"You have not seen every zombie movie ever made," Dipper cut in, "Not even possible."

"There are about 560 or so that I've seen so far so, I am inclined to disagree. I have kissed someone, obviously that's my lie." Norman chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Okay Mr. Smooth, not that I don't believe ya, but--" Wybie made a noncommittal noise, using his hands as though a scale.

"Played Spin the Bottle at a party my, uh, not-really-friend Alvin got me invited to and his breath smelled like oranges. Not like nice oranges, but like he drank a spray bottle of citric cleaner oranges." Norman shook, pretending to gag at the memory. "Decent kisser though, I'll give him that."

"Casanova over here," Coraline joked, fanning herself. "Although I have a boyfriend, you're single, and older than me... so, sucks to be you."

Mabel came back, sticking her phone in her pocket, as she laughed, hugging Norman from the back and hanging on him with her arms around his neck. "Lucky you I outgrew my fujoshi phase, or I would want all the details."

"It wasn't making out or anything, nothing interesting to report, May." Norman said over his shoulder, looking at her with amusement.

"Oh believe me. I wouldn't have cared. Shipping was my drug addiction. Now I have turned my attention elsewhere. Like knitting and sewing." Mabel grinned, rubbing her cheek against his (much like a cat would) before going back to her place in the circle.

Mabel elbowed her brother out of his very focused gaze on the carpet between his feet. He glared at her in response. Mabel eyed Coraline with a knowing glance, to which Coraline mouthed to her, _"Dumb boys."_

"My turn then," Coraline was more prepared for hers since she almost always went with the same ones. "I always wanted to start a punk band called the Black Cats, I know conversational Latin, and I have never seen the Princess Bride."

"The band," Mabel pointed, "it's a half truth. I bet it's a different genre."

"You got me." Coraline grinned, Wybie giving a few claps of approval. "Always thought more grunge than punk, don't have the pipes for either though."

"Me, me, me" Wybie rose his hand in mock excitement, pretending to be in class, "Coraline was my love at first sight, I once licked a toad for five bucks, and I like my black licorice dipped in caramel."

"God, I hope its the licorice," Dipper muttered with distaste.

"I wish it was," Coraline sighed. "So gross."

"It was not love at first sight, maybe second or third. She used to be a real brat," he instructed, crossing his arms.

That earned him a punch in the back of the head from Coraline. Mabel was the only one who was laughing rather than concerned.

"I'm last," Mabel sighed, "and I'm going to bed after this and I suggest you all do too. This was fun, though. Without further ado, here's mine: my second toe is the longest of all my toes, I used to have a recurring dream where I was dating all the male characters in OHSHC all at once, and once I got through a whole date saying a guy's name wrong until the end when he told me his real name."

"It was Naruto, not Ouran." Dipper stuck his tongue out, grinning when Mabel began to pout.

"Not fair, of course you know the answer."

"Guess the guy didn't go for a second date, huh?" Norman asked.

"He asked me out again, but I was honest and just told him I wasn't really feeling it. We had no chemistry, you know?" Mabel admitted, "First and last real date so far."

"Better than me," Dipper admitted.

"And me," Norman added.

"Not everyone can date the best girl in the wo--" Wybie started before Coraline gave him a dirty look.

"Come off it Cheesewhiz, no one wants to hear you gushing over me." Coraline groaned.

"You guys are cute," Norman smiled. "Doesn't bother me."

"Me either." Mabel grinned, leaning over to hug Coraline and falling hard on Wybie's lap in the process, pulling Coraline with her and the two of them knocking him back.

As they all laughed and started to untangle, Norman stood.

"I'm going to be down here a while. I have something I wanna work on. You guys go on to bed," Norman insisted, going up the stairs by himself.

He dug through his things and was grabbing his notebook and writing supplies when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Dipper with the same expression as earlier, brooding and distracted.

"Dipper, really, I'm sorry about earlier I shouldn't have hit that hard." Norman tried, apologizing, but he didn't know what to say.

"About that. It reminded me of that fight we had, back in the forest, do you remember?"

"Seems like a lifetime ago," Norman sighed, "but yeah, I remember."

"Only thing is it felt different this time." Dipper admitted.

"Well I was pretending to be a jilted spouse, rather an actually calling you out for being a dick." Norman observed, skeptical, "Not sure where you're going with this."

Dipper closed the door behind him for privacy, leaning up against it, "You said something earlier about kissing a guy, do you... like guys or something?"

"Have I had crushes? Yeah, a couple, but one kiss didn't sell me on _males_ as a whole." Norman chuckled, shifting his weight to one foot. "Why?"

"Just wondering the difference is all," Dipper admitted, moving to sit on the far edge of the bed. "Only ever kissed a girl like one time, and it was very brief."

"Well, all I can tell you is that the main difference is whether or not your lips itch afterward from the facial hair, if they have any." Norman shrugged, "Though... when he kissed me it was forced prickliness, you know, from hopeful overshaving."

Norman could feel his heart beating quick in his chest, and his breathing speed up, _was Dipper getting at what he thinks he was?_ His legs seemed to carry him on its own, until he stood in front of Dipper. Dipper's face was beet red, pupils blown open, his hands shaking so much he clamped his hands to his knees to stop them.

Norman bit his bottom lip, ducking down towards Dipper and lifting his bangs to see the birthmark. He tracked it with his thumb, watching Dipper's eyes lock onto his as he did.

Norman took a sharp breath, "Dipper's a nickname, right? What's your real name?"

"Mason."

"It's a nice name," Norman whispered, his fingers sliding down Dipper's face to rest on the cheek he slapped.

He leaned his forehead against Dipper's, mouths inches from each other. He hoped his breath didn't stink. It made him extremely nervous that Dipper seemed so spacy. He wondered if he was interpreting this all wrong. He saw Dipper's expression and it steeled his nerves.

"Nor--" Dipper whispered breathlessly.

Norman closed his eyes and went for it, digging one knee into the matress on one side and cupping Dipper's face with the other, pressing his lips together against Dipper's.

Dipper's eyes rolled closed, grabbing Norman behind his back to pull him fully on his lap. His mouth opened and immediately felt Norman's tongue in his mouth. His head was so foggy he barely could keep a coherent thought. Dipper's hand slid under Norman's shirt, touching his back, before Norman pulled back and hissed, beginning to giggle.

"Your hand is freezing." Norman smiled, cheeks red.

"Sorry, Norm." Dipper hyperventilated, still winding down from the excitement. "Uh, about that--"

"Is your curiosity satisfied?" Norman smiled, breathing through his mouth.

Dipper was opening and closing his eyes as if sleepy, clearing his head before flopling back on the bed and pulling Norman with him onto his chest. "I think I like you, you know? I'm so comfortable with you, I'm just so drawn to you."

"As much as I would love to have this talk now, the others will be up any minute." Norman smiled, adjusting himself after he crawled off the bed.

"Right," Dipper muttered, disappointed.

"Obviously, feelings are reciprocated," Norman supplied. "I would love to get to know you better. I'm gonna work on one of my film ideas, wanna sit up with me?"

Dipper stepped off the bed, nodding before groaning, "Ah jeez, headrush."

"Come on, before your sister rubs it in that she was right." Norman laughed, picking up his notebook and things. "If I may ask--"

"What brought it on?" Dipper answered for him, earning a nod, "Between the look you gave me when I was doing pushups, how oddly turned on I was when you smacked me, as well as the warm and fuzzies I seem to feel any time we're alone-- that's the gist of it."

"Not to be weird, but I've sorta had a crush of you for a while. I always knew of you at school, even if you didn't know me. I wasn't at the lovesick doodling our names together in my textbooks yet, but I'm there right about now." he smiled, "No rush. We're both figuring our shit out, and there's danger seemingly around every corner... so we can hold this off."

"Glad we agree," Dipper smiled, taking a deep breath before opening the door and seeing no one there, he could barely still hear them all talking downstairs. "Consider this _very_ temporarily pegged, not over."

"Gotcha." Norman agreed, the two going together down the stairs, the three turning to watch with snide looks. The two were alone upstairs, quiet, long enough for the rest of the group to put two and two together.

"Norman and Dipper sitting in a tree--" Mabel started, laughing her ass off when Dipper threw a nearby pillow at her face.

"Leave them alone," Wybie said wistfully, "It's time for bed. If you two get too weird, get a room and save us all the embarrassment."

"Won't be an issue," Norman urged, sitting at the kitchen table and already scribbling some notes based on the past new days in his notebook. "You and Coraline worry about yourselves, lovebirds."

"Single pringle, yet again," Mabel whined. "Maybe I can dream that harem dream again, that'd be nice."

So the three went off to bed, leaving the two on their own in the kitchen chatting idly. They were shoulder to shoulder chatting, looking over Norman's handiwork. Occasionally, Dipper would glance over at Norman and smile. Norman tried really hard not to get his hopes too high, but he was already mentally casting Dipper as the hero in his next film.

...

Upstairs, as the three got into their particular places to sleep, Mabel insisted Coraline and Wybie share the bed and she would move to the couch. Wybie, ever the eager beaver, was already gonked out.

"I'm sure the couples would be more comfortable huddling together." She smiled, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"No, it's fine." Coraline assured her in a whisper, "It would be awkward if Wybie and I slept in the same bed. We may seem lovey-dovey but we barely give each other more than pecks on the head or lips. I'm not comfortable going past that, neither is Wybie. It's better we keep our space. We're still a little young for all that, you know."

Mabel nodded, climbing in bed next to Coraline, "Sure, I can respect that."

"Did you see the looks those two were giving each other?" Coraline giggled.

"You should've seen what I walked in the other day! Dipper was giving Norman a noogie but it was one of the most weirdly-romantic gestures I have seen outside of a teen flick. It was adorable." Mabel grinned conspiringly, "Though I suspect they kissed earlier. My brother seemed really out of it when he got slapped, and I think Norman was really upset about it. Their whole mood changed once they came downstairs, right?"

"For sure," she agreed. "I envy them a little. Wybie and I are tied together by sad circumstances, despite our feelings for each other-- it's a burden, you know, despite the nice parts of it."

"I get it," Mabel sighed. "I envy all of you. All of you at least seem to know what you're doing. Dipper and I are really drifting apart, and it's so hard. We shared a womb, then a room, now it feels like we barely talk outside of bickering. This whole trip has been helping but it doesn't make me feel any less bitter he is getting closer to my brother than I am. I know it's different, but it's like I'm losing the last constant in my life."

"You're still twins, you'll always have that bond." Coraline yawned, "Maybe if you tried befriending Norman more, it wouldn't feel so bad. You may be twins but you aren't the same person, you know? It's ok to not be attached at the hip."

"Maybe," she yawned too, trying to get comfortable, " 'Night, Coraline."

"Good night." She muttered back.

...

After an hour or so, Dipper and Norman went upstairs and laid together back to back, falling asleep. None of the group had a single nightmare. Things were calm for once.

For a while, at least.


	24. A Call to Arms

Mabel was the first to wake up, still in her flannel pajamas, and padded downstairs as she poorly stifled a yawn. Wirt was already awake, watching the ticker going crazy across the newsreel. Mabel didn't even ask what was wrong, sitting beside him on the couch, Greg idly poking at a bowl of cereal in the kitchen as he pretended disinterest.

Wirt unplugged his headphones from the TV, so Mabel could hear the male announcer who was visibly fighting nausea as he tried to report.

Tad Strange, the newscaster, forced a smile as he put on his television voice, "--as I said before Jan, another victim found this morning by a jogger. The body was found in the woods nearby the Northwest estate, leading some in town to notice the odd connection of the large expanse of woods all being part of or nearby Northwest forest land. The body was dismembered, although the torso and pelvis are missing, a female head with a pair of arms and legs were found arranged in an unusual pattern. There has been a sketch made of the symbol, here."

The camera zoomed in on the page, a symbol outlined in marker that looked like a crudely drawn circle, with a circle in the center.

The caster pointed to the outer circle with his finger, "This outer circle is made up of two arms and two legs from a single individual formed in a circular shape, with the victim's head face-up in the center of it. It is too early to say, but this vicious murder calls into question if the other murders recently were not animal attacks, but of a serial killer. More on this story as we learn more. Back to you--"

Wirt clicked off the TV with this, his stomach wrenching, standing shakily, "I need to make a phone call."

Mabel watched him leave the room and debated whether she should wake her friends upstairs with the news or tell them over breakfast. Neither seemed like a fun idea. She figured it wasn't exactly meal-conversation, at the very least. As she thought about it, she wondered if she could mentally call out to Tezzy and he would come running. She assumed no, he wasn't a dog or likely a telepath, and (god or not) he was surely bound by at least some laws of nature. She went to the room next door and flopped into a dining chair next to Greg, tousling his hair.

"Heya, Greggers. Whatcha thinking about?" Mabel asked, watching his face with interest. She was desperate to put off the inevitable.

Greg seemed distant, mature, "I heard you on the phone yesterday--" he sighed to interrupt her, "the bathroom on this floor backs to my room."

"Shit," Mabel cursed, then was shocked by herself and apologized. "Sorry, uh, language. Uhm... How much did you hear?"

"All of it," Greg muttered. "After I heard you lock the door and start pacing I put my ear to the wall."

"Eavesdropping is very rude," Mabel scolded, tight-lipped. "Also gross, considering it's a bathroom."

"I've had this lecture before, clearly I don't listen. Besides, you keep your call volume way too high. Now, what's going on with this Gideon guy? He said he saw the murder." Greg muttered like a parent who caught a child in a lie, cheek in his hand as he looked at her with an annoyed expression that rivaled his half-brother's.

"He called the station in a panic, got a hold of Wendy, and convinced her to give him my number. He was conscious, with Xototl commanding his body to do his bidding as a vessel. He couldn't fight it but wanted to warn me of what was going on before Xolotl woke up again. I thought he was having a nightmare or something, or payback for the borderline kidnapping. I guess not." Mabel ran her hands through her hair, "The well just keeps getting deeper."

"And you didn't tell the others, did you?" Greg asked, already knowing the answer.

"I thought it was a joke," Mabel defended weakly.

"Denial, more like," Greg groaned, getting up to dump out the contents of the rest of his bowl.

"I wanted one day of peace, of _normal_ again, is that so bad?" Mabel groaned, tears starting to form in her eyes. "Dipper and Norman may thrive on all this, but I hate it! I don't _like_ feeling helpless! I don't like feeling like every minute I eat, sleep, or go to the bathroom I am _killing_ someone because I can't be everywhere at once! You're a kid, anyway, what the hell do you know?!"

"I almost died years ago protecting Wirt," Greg got a rotten, angry look on his face. The rare sight curdled Mabel's resolve and made her actually shiver with fear. He looked pissed and seemed twice as old with such a volatile mood. "What sympathy do you want from me? No one can save these people but you guys, stop whining and go tell the others."

Mabel wiped her tears with defiance, ashamed of herself, "Fine, but stop being so bossy. You're the kid between us."

"Then act like it," he growled, going off to his room, slamming his door.

Mabel took a deep breath and took the stairs up two at a time to hurry and wake the others. She felt bad she talked down to Greg, she thought he was a sweet kid. However, she hated being a package deal with her twin at times like these. All she wanted was normalcy; making her sweaters and naïvely reading costuming magazines; living as though gods, spirits, gnomes, and weird-Gravity-Falls-shit, as a whole, did not exist.

* * *

Mabel began the ceremony of bad news by opening the curtains and turning on the light, which was met with an immediate barrage of groans.

"Can _no one_ get a decent night's sleep in Gravity Falls?" Dipper moaned irritably and pulling a pillow over his head, "I wanted to sleep in."

"There's been another body. We need to go pick up Gideon." Mabel sighed irritably, dishumor in her eyes as she tore the blanket off her brother, looking to Wybie. "Can you go outside and get Señor Black-Eyes? Scream his name to the sky or something?"

Wybie sighed deeply and nodded, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he went downstairs, wondering to himself how _that_ was going to work. He yawned, blinking slowly as he stepped towards the front porch. He sat on the porch and started calling out the god's name in futility.

The rest of the group were in varying stages of wakefulness at the news. Coraline seemed really upset and instantly awake, grabbing something out of her bag before shutting herself up in the bathroom and locking the door. The remaining three looked between themselves in confusion and unanimously decided, without a word between them, not to discuss it. _Just Coraline being Coraline,_ they reasoned.

Mabel looked to Dipper and Norman, explaining herself and over-gesticulating as a side effect of her disbelief, "Gideon called me last night, you know, after it happened. When I got up to go to the bathroom, he called. He kept saying all this crazy stuff! I-I, well, I thought he was just getting back at us for the hogtie-kidnapping-thing, you know, but he was _clearly_ telling the truth as I know now. Xolotl used this victim as a _challenge_ or something to summon his brother, Quetzacoatl."

Dipper interrupted, a mixture of confusion and disbelief, "Wait wait wait," the words tumbling out his mouth, holding up his palm and a wait-just-a-damn-minute expression on his face, "how does he know that?"

"Apparently at some point when Bill was using him as a vessel, he _woke up_ or something when he was muttering to himself? I don't remember the details-- Anyway, Gideon said he was concerned for his safety, our safety too, but... I _basically_ told him it sucked to be him and we were busy." Mabel crossed her arms, eyes downcast, and her entire form shrunken in anticipation of Dipper yelling at her.

To her surprise he didn't, he just took a deep breath, and replied sternly in a voice that chilled her when she realized he sounded like their dad, "We were having a _game night_ , Mabel. It can be put on hold to keep Gideon from being a _human meat_ _puppet_ that _kills_ people and _dismembers_ their corpses!"

"I know! I get that!" she defended, her voice pitching. "I-I just wanted things to feel _normal_ again for a little while! It hasn't even been two weeks in Gravity Falls and we have to take up the mantle again! It _sucks,_ and I _hate_ being responsible for other people's lives." Mabel curled in on herself more, but her voice was steady. "You may get off on being the hero, but I just want to be mundane and _blissfully_ ignorant that we could die at any moment. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a whole town!"

"Remember Shakespeare? Well, uh, 'Some have greatness thrust upon them'? Whether you like it or not, you have the means to save others." Norman yawned, stretching with a sage and unfazed expression. "Deciding not to take it is not only cowardly but cruel."

Mabel hated that Norman was right, but after a moment of warring with herself, reached out and hugged him, "Just what I needed to hear. Thanks, Norman."

Norman, wide-eyed and somewhat awake now, looked at Dipper from the corner of his eye and whispered, "Is she being sarcastic? I can't tell."

Dipper shook his head and patted his sister on the shoulder, "Okie doke, you have surpassed the friend-zone hug meter, please detach."

Mabel stuck her tongue out but conceded and let go, pulling out her phone, "Right. So... I'll text him, then. Let him know we're coming. Norman, can you drive us? Wirt seemed... um, _preoccupied_ when I spoke to him before."

Norman nodded, "I'm sure Wirt wouldn't mind. I'll go get the keys, we won't be able to drive the whole path there-- since it's unpaved and all-- but it'll shave off a while of walking time."

Norman left the twins alone to talk, speeding down the stairs and holding on to the railing. He would catch Wirt if he could before taking the van, and leave a note if he couldn't. Expediency is key, after all, he told himself.

Dipper sighed again, this time with a hint of disbelief, "I can't believe you kept that a secret. You even _slept_ on it. You didn't even plan on telling us unless it came up, did you?"

Mabel flushed with shame, twisting the hem of her shirt in her fists, "Like I _said_ , I thought it was a joke--"

"Even if it was, now is not the time to take risks like that. People's lives are at stake. While I'm sure we probably couldn't have saved the past victims without _superhuman_ powers, we have to at least try to minimize the damage here, May. You get that, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Mabel's voice squeaked, causing her to wince at the lie. Her brother still knew her well enough, it seemed. "O-of course I get it. I just, I _like_ being a normal teenager. I wish you liked it too." She sighed, her breath shaky and wet, she cleared her throat. "This trip has been the most time we've spent together in a year. All you seem to _do_ anymore is hole yourself up in your room. I-I never see you, you never seem to want to talk to me or hang out with me--"

Dipper stopped her with a scoff, then inwardly cursed himself and he tried to quash his bitterness before speaking, "You have a _life_ , is the problem, Sis. You have this _bustling_ social life, good grades, hobbies, interests-- but, for me-- outside of Gravity Falls-- my own life is just a footnote in a story about _you_. At least when we were younger, people thought I was the smart twin for all that useless knowledge I gained over the years-- but you always were the more talented twin, the friendlier twin, the more _well-adjusted_ twin.

Even Mom and Dad think so! You realize the last time I talked to them in person they asked me why I wasn't more like you?-- More sociable, better grades, more ambition, _whatever_ \-- I'm used to feeling like shit now compared to you, Mabel. I _like_ feeling like I'm good at something, sometimes! Unfortunately..." Dipper laughed dryly, shrugging, "this just happens to be my strong suit."

Mabel apologized, looking at her shoes, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way. We should... talk about this later, okay?"

Dipper agreed with a single nod, "I'm going to go check on Coraline."

Mabel sighed before heading downstairs to check on Gideon via text. She'd fix things with her brother later, getting that white-haired brat over was a little higher on the list of things to do at the moment.

* * *

"Coraline? You okay in there? Didn't fall in, did ya?" Dipper asked, knocking every few seconds.

Coraline opened the door with an unamused expression and the tarot card deck in her fist, "Sometimes I _hate_ this fortune-telling stuff! Beating 'round the bush, riddles, diversions-- _gah_!" She yelled in irritation, mussing up her hair with her nails, "Sometimes I feel like I'm better off with a _Magic 8-ball_ or something!"

"What'd you get?" Dipper asked, half amused and fully prepared to not understand a _single_ word of any explanation that would follow the question.

"I won't bore you with the details, just a whole lot of words on a dartboard, so to speak." Coraline rolled her eyes, simmering down enough to explain, "Too many conflicting futures in play, even the _Clairvoyant Cards O' Doom_ don't seem to have a clue."

"That's... unsettling," Dipper deadpanned, "Well, onward and upward I guess. Let's head downstairs."

"Onward to an early death," Coraline jeered. "Yee-haw."

"Ever the optimist," Dipper commented sardonically.

Coraline fought back a laugh.

* * *

Mabel was typing as quickly as she could send one long correspondence message to Gideon to start the conversation but, halfway through, growled in irritation and started calling him instead.

He picked up after only three-and-a-half rings.

"M-Mabel? I guess the news reported it, huh?" Gideon asked, unsure. His side of the line had various noises of pausing mid-task, switching ears to lean the phone against his shoulder as he continued cooked on the stove.

"Just to get it out of the way," Mabel took on a reluctant voice of apology, "I'm _sorry_ I didn't believe you. That was crappy of me. Regardless, we'll be coming to get you within a half hour or so."

"What are you planning, exactly?" Gideon asked with a voice clearly skeptical, moving the pan to the side and eating his egg off it with a fork. "Not that I don't have faith in you, but after the whole being-tied-up thing I'd at _least_ like an idea of what's going to happen with me."

"We haven't gotten that far," Mabel admitted. "We're still rousing the troops, so to speak. How much control did you have when he had the reigns?"

"Can we save this conversation for in person? I'm eating breakfast." Gideon asked petulantly, drawl even more prominent with his mouth full.

"Just sit tight Powderpuff, okay? If we show up and you aren't there, I will be even less kind when you get bound. Got it?" Mabel hissed, Norman gesturing for her to hurry along.

Gideon clicked his tongue, "If I didn't know any better--" he started, a smirk in his voice.

"If you finish that thought, I will feed you to the Beast myself." Mabel huffed, "We're on the way."

"Right, see you soon," Gideon answered cordially, ending the call. Gideon chuckled to himself, taking a sip of water. "I suppose people _can_ change for the worse."

* * *

After everyone dressed, as quickly as they all could, the house was locked behind them and they headed to the van. Mabel huffed to herself the whole time she walked to the car, everyone back to business once they all piled in. Wybie joined last, taking a seat closest to the door. As they got on the road, Coraline spoke first.

"Hey, Wy, any luck with Tezzy?" Coraline asked.

"Yeah, uh, he's here," Wybie stated, pulling away the collar of his button-up shirt to show a snake coiled around his neck like a thick twine necklace. The black and yellow stripes were unmistakable.

The shock was evident in the group, even to Norman who saw in the rearview mirror before yelling an explicative and looking back at the road to swerve back into the lane.

"Your words are quite crass, young man, you should show respect in the presence of your elders," the yellow and black snake spoke, humor in his tone.

"A talking snake," Coraline moaned distressingly, quite afraid of snakes. "Now I've seen everything."

"You're very _boring_ humans," Tezcatlipoca sighed, "I was hoping for a more stunning reveal. At least it is quite warm here." He nuzzled his face against Wybie's skin, tickling him and causing the boy to giggle.

Dipper, sitting in the front with Norman, turned back and asked what everyone was thinking, "So the yelling to the sky worked?"

Tezzy felt the urge to say something pretentious, to state the old tired saying of a tree falling in the forest, and responded with, "Intent to see me, as well as knowing what happened last night, brought me-- not being howled at like some dog. While you all played your games, I watched my mirror for anything new."

"And?" Mabel asked, sighing, and beyond the point of exasperated.

" _And_ " he muttered irritably, "he's nearly there. He's so confident of his power that he wants to challenge his brother to battle. Of course, that would be disastrous, since two gods-- some of the eldest of all, no less-- in a physical battle can end in great tragedy and destruction."

"Peachy, just _great_ ," Norman groaned with a whine. "Ol' George and Ralph are gonna wipe us all off the map. Just what we need, a rampage of godly proportions."

The van went silent, no one bothered to laugh at the obscure reference, even Tezcatlipoca seemed to ponder the consequences among the group's silence.

Mabel watched out the window with a slew of mixed feelings, arguably the most resistant of the group to get with the program but the most intent to finish it quickly. She wondered if the time she spent at the library was even useful. As the scenery passed, she mentally reviewed all the information in hopes of a eureka moment.

None came.

* * *

They arrived at the end of where they could drive and discussed who would get him. Mabel and Norman volunteered. The two hopped out of the car and walked together, Norman looking back once to the van before they turned a corner and couldn't see them anymore.

"So the bringing him over to the Inn, do you think the wards can keep a _god_ out?" Mabel asked, biting her lip, "I mean, surely, the stuff Wirt prepared for is nothing like this."

"You may be right." Norman admitted, "We can't know for sure. But taking away Xolotl's human vessel may be our best shot. He can't hide among normal people, then. We don't know if they were lured by Gideon, under possession by him or something, before they were killed. It's a possibility-- much easier to lure a rabbit if it thinks it's approaching another rabbit."

Mabel bit her nail, she was afraid of that. "I hate talking about it without Wybie around, but they seem pretty buddy-buddy right now. What if Tez drives Wybie while we figure out everything? He can protect us, temporarily, at least."

"But what about Wybie's safety?" Norman asked, "He was able to scare him off before, but who's to say he can end it? He could get Wybie _killed_. We don't even know if these gods are completely immortal-- if not, Tez can die too, and _then_ what happens?"

"You're right," Mabel smiled sadly, "Forget I mentioned it. Nice to have my own Jiminy Cricket. Thanks, Norman, seriously." Her expression changed as she exhaled deeply, "So... you and my brother, huh? I'm glad you guys are getting along. He... doesn't have many friends. Maybe you can break him out of his shell again."

"Neither did I," Norman admitted, "before you two-- and Coraline and Wybie, of course. I moved away from the few friends I did have, and we didn't really stay in touch."

"I know how that is," Mabel smiled wistfully, "I saw you around school though, sometimes. Your hair makes you stand out."

He laughed, "You should have seen me in my punk phase. For a while, when I first started hanging out with Alvin, we went to concerts and stuff and I would liberty spike my hair. My hair seems to only cooperate if it remains spiky. Try parting it? No dice. Liberty spikes worked, though." Norman sighed, shrugging, "It was honestly pretty fun, while it lasted. Neil even got into the scene with me, as soft as he is. Alvin ditched his cronies and hung out with us after everything, didn't pick on us anymore. It was nice. Of course, my parents eventually got sick of everyone knowing my _'dirty little secret'_ and moved us to be closer to my sister's college, regardless of what I wanted."

"Sorry," Mabel apologized out of obligation, catching sight of the shack. 

"I'm just glad for you guys, that's all," Norman smiled meekly, "Thought I was going to be hanging out with Greg all summer. He's nice, but the age gap makes it hard to relate sometimes."

Remembering her talk with Greg that morning made her chuff out a laugh, "I think you underestimate him, I know I did."

"Maybe... Anyhow, I'm glad you two are my friends. It's nice to have people who understand the oddly specific trauma of having supernatural problems thrust in your lap, forcing you to save others." Norman admitted, "You may not like that responsibility, I have mixed feelings about it myself, but in the end who would we have been without it?"

Mabel was going to comment until Gideon-- waiting on his front stoop in a grey T-shirt, a cap with his old pentagram logo on it from his conning days, and muddy jeans-- did she remember they weren't taking a nature stroll and picking up an accessory to murder.

"Mabel Pines! and-- hm, Norman, right?" Gideon smiled, picking up his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulders. "You're late. Let's get going."

He passed the two briskly as they had walked toward him, the two proceeded to turn around and catch up to him.

"In a hurry, Gleeful?" Mabel sniped, matching his pace.

"Garrett," he grumbled.

"What?" Mabel huffed.

"My last name is Garrett."

"Gideon _Garrett_?" Mabel asked amusedly-- as if it was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard.

"Gleeful isn't my last name, it was part of the act." Gideon rolled his eyes, "Gleeful isn't a real last name, _obviously_. Who would call themselves that? Anyway, I changed it back after all that mess."

"Gideon... _Garrett_?" she asked again, this time in disbelief.

"My god, is there an echo in these woods?" Gideon asked, pretending to clean his ear with his pinky.

Norman followed from a distance, watching the exchange with a hint of amusement. It was always interesting to see the relationship dynamics of people, especially if you didn't know the context of their relationship, and clearly, this one was complicated. The elephant in the room wasn't being addressed, sure, but the time would come for that eventually. He savored the few minutes of peace before reaching the van. 

* * *

After Mabel and Gideon got in the back, Norman got in the front and started the car, and drove off toward the Inn, the silence was (of course) broken by the god disguised as a talking snake.

"So, we've been thinking--"

Gideon screamed a high-pitched wail upon seeing the snake, his accent thickening in his fear, making him sound much like a southern dame in distress. "Oh, Lord, why is that snake talkin'?!"

Tez looked as unamused as a snake's face could muster, "I see now he chose you; for familiarity and not skill," referring to Bill's taking of Gideon again.

"As Tezzy was saying," Wybie clarified, trying to stay on track. "We agreed while you two were gone, it may be best to let Tez get a handle on things for the time being. He can't do much in his animal forms, so he will borrow me."

"I mean can't he do anything useful in that form?" Mabel asked, earning a grimace from Coraline.

"I can do a lot of things, young lady, you ungrateful little--" Tezcatlipoca lashed out indignantly.

"Get to the point!" Norman snapped.

"I can cleanse the boy," Tez gestured his snake-head to Gideon, "make him pure enough that Xolotl may not use him as a vessel again. In my form as a fowl, I can cleanse even the evilest of men their contamination of what you humans call 'sin'. I can absolve them of guilt and, thus, help them overcome their fate."

"No one has explained to me why the snake is talking--!" Gideon murmured with fear.

"Oh shut up, Gideon." Dipper groaned, "Priorities."

Gideon swallowed thickly and chose to pretend the snake did not exist as the group continued to discuss him as though he was not there. He chose instead to watch Mabel. She got an angry look when she met his eye, but he laughed it off. Their two year age gap seemed bigger now, he thought to himself dramatically, but he still felt the same. His feelings just matured when he did.

"Hey, uhm," Gideon interrupted, feeling it better to rip off the band-aid. "I know this is a bad time and all, but I've sorta been kicked out of my shack."

"You mean other than us relocating you?"Mabel asked.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "when Bill was in control I heard something I thought the Northwests should know, and they promptly fired me. Not that I blame them."

"Which was?" Dipper asked, the fear in his eyes clear he already figured it out.

"Pacifica's dead. She's _been_ dead this whole time. She was the first victim, just was never found." Gideon's voice shook as he said it, his hands beginning to shake as he tried to force a smile, "Even back then he had me under... he uh, I-uh," he burst into tears, his hands tremoring as his laced fingers looked like begging for mercy. "She's buried just behind my house. I thought her parents should be able to give her a proper burial so I--" he covered his face with his hands, "Oh, God, if you'd seen her. I didn't even recognize her at first, her face was--" Gideon looked so disgusted and scared, his lip shook as he swallowed. "All I could really recognize was her hair, it's so light blonde that it's unusual around these parts--"

Norman gagged from the front seat, veering the car of the road and throwing himself out of the van to vomit on some stranger's lawn. Dipper ran around the car to check on him, Gideon opening the door on the van with a knowing look on his face, "You saw her too, didn't you?"

Dipper's eyes widened as Norman turned to Gideon, wiping the bile from his chin, "Her throat was torn open, wasn't it?"

When Gideon nodded, Norman felt his stomach heave but no bile came, wiping his eyes with his arm, "The day I saw the news report, there was a female spirit outside the Inn. She looked chewed up, it was awful. I guess she was trying to warn me somehow." Norman stook shakily before lumbering back into the van, "We need to get back. Not much further."

Dipper got back in, and Gideon shut the door on his side. The rest of the ride was in somber silence. After their arrival, everyone except Wybie and Gideon were sitting on the porch steps. 

"Once you're cleansed, Gideon, you can go in. The rest of you need to go inside and stay there." the snake looked around at Wybie, uncoiling from his neck and slithering into the grass. "Wybie, you need uninterrupted sleep until sundown if I'm to watch over the house after nightfall."

* * *

So, everyone went inside except for Gideon and Tezzy, who watched the boy with interest. "You will be absolved, as what you did under his control was not your doing-- however, those lives taken cannot be brought back. I cannot erase those memories, for they will be your moral guide. You cannot slip again."

"I know," Gideon nodded sagely, "I understand."

In the blink of an eye, the snake was replaced with a fowl, eyes sharper than a normal bird, "Go forth, turn your back on me."

As Gideon turned, he felt the sensation of weightlessness travel from his chest in pulses like a heartbeat reaching his fingertips, then his feet, then his head. Once he reached the side door, where he had been instructed to enter, he turned to look behind him and Tez was gone. Gideon inhaled then exhaled deeply, closing then opening his eyes before entering the house. For the first moment in a long time, he felt confident in his safety. He would not have this chance again, so he made a vow to strive to hold onto that feeling.

The group, sans Wybie asleep upstairs, sat in the living room quietly save for a suggestion to watch TV to fill the time. The TV was turned on, they all had their eyes on the TV watching, but their minds were elsewhere. Gideon was the only one half-watching the program, balancing it with the amazement that-- despite his inability to fight the situation-- he was actually on the same side as the Pines twins for once. It was a nice thought.

Then he remembered Pacifica, and he turned his thoughts back to the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually have valid excuses for why this one took so long! 1.) I'm determined to be better about making the chapters less choppy, thus longer and 2.) I had to fiddle with the timeline I had for the story a tad. I changed some elements, so it was necessary to reorder some things. Minor stuff, probably, but it helps now that it makes more sense lol 
> 
> Also, I had the Pacifica thing planted for a loooong time (ch. 5, to be exact) and purposely mentioned she was missing early on and even hinted at this (ch. 12) so don't come at me and say it was a curveball lol


	25. Black and White Eyes

Soon after they came in, Wirt greeted them solemnly, before stepping outside wordlessly and shutting the door behind him. Eventually, a sound carried over the sound of the television no one was really watching, and the volume was promptly muted to better hear its source.

An argument, loud enough to hear from inside the house, caused them all to leave their spots and peek out the kitchen window. Wirt looked small- despite towering over Wendy by a good half-foot- he was standing a few feet away from her with his voice cracking as he raised it. She raised her voice too, her's firmer and resolute. Their body language and demeanor clearly signaled an argument, a serious one.

The group couldn't hear what the two were saying, but Dipper's curiosity led him to shush the others and crack the window open. The words came flooding through the window now, easy to hear. The ever-rising emotions crackled in the atmosphere surrounding the two.

"I'm sure you've heard about it! The police are _just now_ figuring out what we already know!" Wirt gestured wildly towards the woods, hands shaking and his eyes darting as he spoke. "It's not _safe_ , Wendy! _Please_ stay here, it's _safe_ here. I _made_ it safe. I can protect you!"

Wendy's expression became conflicted, hurt, "But what about my family, Wirt?! My _parents_? My brothers? I'm supposed to just _abandon_ them?! Leave them in the dark, and in _danger_ so Bill can screw shit up again?! _No_ , Wirt... I will not do that!"

She dug her boot into the dirt, kicking into the soil in defeat. She clicked her tongue to bite back her emotions, crossing her arms, and trying to remember the sight of her brothers' smiling faces to calm her emotions. She had to be smart about this, she couldn't let her emotions get the better of her, now.

Wirt was near tears, desperate, his voice weakening, "Wendy, _please_! You can bring them here! We'll make room!"

She scoffed, crossing her arms, "And tell them _what_?! They don't know anything, about _anything_ going on! Forget it! I'm _serious_ , Wirt." She exhaled sharply with her eyes closed, calming herself down, she opened them and steadied her gaze, "I'll come by later to check on the kids. As _you_ should be doing, instead of being out here, yelling at me!"

Wirt throws up his arms in defeat, breaking the distance between them and putting his hands on her shoulders, "I'm only worried because I _love_ you, Wendy."

Wendy looks down, laughing humorlessly, and leaning her forehead on his chest. The tension in Wirt's frame loosened, wrapping his arms around her gingerly. Her arms loosen from her chest and she hugs him back, sighing.

"I know," she smiled sadly, nuzzling her face in his chest. "Don't worry, I'll be fine... I just have to take care of my family, just like you are." Her voice softened, "I'll come to visit tomorrow, I've got a late shift tonight. Tell the twins I miss 'em."

Without another word, Wendy unlatched herself from his arms, got in her truck, and drove off. Wirt exhaled sharply as he watched her car round the end of the street.

* * *

Wirt stood for a while, staring at the tire tracks left by her truck, before heading towards the house. The group scrambled to the other room before he came in, and upon walking into the living room, he looked like all his energy was drained from him.

"Wendy said she missed you two." Wirt smiled half-heartedly to the twins, then looked away and his eyes went glassy as he spoke to no one in particular, "I'll be in my room if you need anything."

Wirt shut his bedroom door quietly, the oak door right off the sitting room closing with a hushed thump. Everyone looked amongst themselves in shame. Clearly, they weren't meant to see that conversation. Therefore, they couldn't say anything to try to console him.

The Pines twins felt particularly bad, since he had to deliver Wendy's message, and channeled that guilt through calling and updating their Great-Uncles on the situation at hand. Ford was the more fervent talker, discussing theories and strategy. Stan bowed out after a few minutes of what he bitterly referred to as "tin-foil-hat nonsense" before walking away from the phone.

Dipper tried to not dwell on the fact Wirt had feelings for Wendy- very _reciprocated_ feelings. His mind drifted as Mabel droned on, giving reassurances and listening to advice. Dipper's long-buried feelings for Wendy didn't come back as strong as his childhood crush had once been, but he couldn't help but feel that old vague sense of jealousy just out of reach. As he paced the room, he could see Norman through the doorway, sitting with Coraline as they talked about something inaudibly.

A warmth settled in his chest as his pacing ceased. _Wendy looked sad when she talked to Wirt, sure. He hated seeing Wendy sad, but she seemed so soothed by his presence when he held her. It was all he could've hoped for his first love._ As if feeling his gaze, Norman looked over his shoulder and met Dipper's eyes.

Norman smiled, waving to him. Dipper felt his face redden as he smiled back meekly and turned away. _He had nothing to worry about. Wendy knows what she wants and goes for it, always has. If she sees something in Wirt, clearly he deserves to be happy._ Dipper made a mental note to talk to him when he got some time. _To see what Wirt likes about Wendy, he wanted to hear the side he never saw of her- they were not equals when he loved her, nor were they now. He'd always be a kid in her eyes._

Dipper began pacing again, his smile returning as he thought of Norman. _Maybe he could make a mental list of the things he liked about Norman too... like he did with Wendy, maybe he would even be brave enough to share those things with Norman_. He wondered if Norman was as flustered as he was for their growing feelings.

Norman, meanwhile, was thinking about how happy he was for his cousin. After what hardships Wirt and Greg dealt with, they were far beyond the realm of help via therapy. Norman was glad Wirt found someone, even if he didn't outright tell him about it. Although, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if _Greg_ even knew.

* * *

After some time had passed, the group was all back in the shared domain of the living room, scattered about like discarded laundry. All of them were overwhelmed, each in various positions of lying down- staring at each other or the ceiling. Gideon was the only one of the bunch with the dignity to sit straight in a formal armchair. Though, he sat a little _too_ straight and looked stiff, clearly uncomfortable at the silence.

"So what is the plan exactly? The one upstairs-" Gideon pointed over his shoulder to the stairs with his thumb, his accent stark against the lack thereof in the rest of them. "Wybie, right? The Snake god... guy... just _possesses_ him like Bill did me and plays guard dog while we sleep? That sounds... well... like not a good plan, quite frankly."

"Got any better ones, Foghorn?" Dipper snapped, and upon seeing a look of confusion on Gideon's face, sighed irritably and licked his lips before proceeded on. "The point is: Wirt is the owner of the Bluebird, as you may or may not know, and he has warded the Inn from all supernatural forces. It's like a barrier. It's been great so far, but we can't guarantee on it holding up against Bi- Xolotl- if he's at nearly-full power, capiche?"

"And what if he _can_ get through?" Coraline asked, earning glares on all sides, "Seriously? Guys! We at least need a fallback here, a plan B, _something_!"

"She's right," Norman groaned, covering his face with his hands, "If they get through, we put Wirt and Greg in danger too. Anything in your research you think could work, Mabel?"

All eyes turned to her. She felt her palms sweating and rubbed them uncomfortably on her shorts, "Well, uh-" She cleared her throat, "five is an unlucky number in Aztec culture; there were five of us before, but now there's six. Maybe that's a little better? But, that being said- since we're talking numbers- there are currently two gods involved in this mess and now he's trying to invite a third. Three is associated with war, _sacred_ war, which could be very good or very bad."

"The one he's trying to summon," Gideon leaned in, regaining his interest, "What do you know about him?"

"Quetzalcoatl?" Mabel asked, pouring through her thoughts and mentally skimming what she remembered of her notes, "The cliff notes version, I guess, is that he's the god of the wind, sunrise, artisans, students, craftsmen, and is a patron god of priests. Though, other than being Xolotl's brother and one of the firstborn gods, I'm not sure what he has to do with anything."

"Wait a minute," Coraline looked as though she had received a sharp jolt, shooting upright to attention and turning to Mabel. Her hands seemed erratic, unsure of what to do with themselves. "Two of the cards I kept getting, The Magician and The High Priestess, I think it could be-"

She stopped speaking when all eyes turned to Greg standing behind her, his expression a cross between sagely and bored. Coraline turned her torso and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of him behind her.

"Ever considered actually _asking_ him for help?" Greg asked.

The group looked among themselves, flabbergasted. Unsure of what to say, there were various mumbles, shrugs, and confused looks. The unspoken consensus was _"sure, but what do we do for that, exactly? pray? cut up a sacrifice or something? how would that even work, beseeching a god for help ourselves?"_

"Well, you should, seeing as he's already here," Greg shrugged, "He's in my room."

The group scrambled to their feet, Dipper tripping over his sister's ankles in the hurry. They clamored into the room to find something that looked like a large, feathered anaconda, looking like it wore a tricolored headdress. The colors were unlike any snake they had ever seen, seeming to bleed the colors of vivid reds, blues, and greens. His big yellow eyes settled on Coraline, and an eerie smile formed.

"Hello, my dear. I've been interested in meeting you. Was just having a lovely conversation with Gregory here. We have not formally been introduced, I am Quetzalcoatl."

Coraline felt curious, and this time felt a little less scared at the thought of a talking dragon- both due to having experienced similar earlier and an odd sense of comradery with the thing- but the sheer strangeness of it all was lost on no one in the room. After all, as big as it was, to her it resembled something of a cross of things she'd only ever seen on television; like a huge bush viper mixed with the traditional drawings of Chinese dragons with the explicit difference of feathers not unlike those found on bird wings- although she wasn't quite sure he could fly. Part of her wondered if it would be uncouth to ask.

Being met with silence, the dragon-serpent coiled and relaxed itself and took on a nonchalant tone, "I am sorry to have brought you, children, into this mess. My brother has what you could call an... _insatiable_ bloodlust, and he is a power-hungry _fiend_ to boot, who wishes nothing more than to rule over these lands as their only god. Of course, there are much bigger fish to fry than Tezcatlipoca and I on the way to _that_ goal, but it's quite better to take him out while we're ahead, hm?"

"Not trying to be rude, uh," Norman looked as though he mentally debated before settling on, " _Your Benevolence_ but, uhm, _how did you get in_? We should have at least heard you tear through the barrier had you entered forcibly, unless... _Greg_?"

Eyes turned to the younger boy again, who had a naive smile plastered on his face. Greg shrugged, "I invited him in, he said he wanted to help. Won't do it again, promise. I'll fix the warding when he leaves."

Norman bit his tongue and swallowed his exasperation, not bothering to lecture his cousin of the danger of strangers, saving it for (perhaps) another occasion.

"Settled then," Quetzalcoatl laid his head down on his feathered body and looked up, "If we could invite in my half-brother from outside, perhaps we may all reach an agreement."

"Already here," the striped snake entered the room, curling onto the shelf by the window, just small enough to sit comfortably. "I would not let anything get past. However, I make an exception for you, brother."

"Kumbaya later, okay?" Coraline snapped, "Why are you helping us, Q? Why not take care of this on your own? What do you need a bunch of kids to do your dirty work for?"

"Hmm..." the feathered god seemed to tilt his head in thought, somewhat amused, "As the girl"- he gestured to Mabel with a flick of his head- "has told you, I am not much more than a being of peace. I am no good in battle. I am one of knowledge, creativity, and spiritual devotion... _War,_ " he said the word as though it was filthy falling from his lips, "is not something I partake in. I am here to lend a hand, so to speak.

While I may not be as well-utilized in battles, such as my half-brother or my brother may be, I am a wealth of power nonetheless and I have a sacred gift to bestow upon you, Coraline Jones- with help from Tezcatlipoca, that is. While selfish and typically uninvolved with human affairs, he was taken with this group and helped without coaxing or deceit, that alone is a seal of approval worth my interference."

Tezzy lolled his head, "I am here to do nothing more than help those of my patronage. I am a guardian of warriors and no battle has ever been so deserved as this- although Xolotl's treachery and wanton murder of humans does not count in his favor, in my eyes. I am a god of responsibility and my word. I do not know of what gift you speak of but, surely, I have nothing to give."

"I wish to give Coraline the power of _Tlachia_ , with your help," Quetz asked of Tezzy, which caused a sputter of confusion from Coraline.

"The power of what now?" She asked, the rest of the group watching in silence with a mixture of fascination and disbelief.

"The power to observe, to see things which have yet to occur. You already have some of this, which you channel through your cards, but this will be more straightforward. You will see things with more clarity than before, and it will give you a better chance to prepare and protect those around you." Quetz explained, eyes opening as closing as though he were beginning to fall asleep.

"Oh yeah," Dipper rolled his eyes, "makes much more sense now. Do all gods speak in riddles or just you guys?"

"I apologize for being longwinded," Quetz assented, "however, there is no need to be disrespectful. The point of this is so you have another means to protect yourselves. I will take responsibility for my brother and end this once and for all. I am not here to protect you children specifically, after all, but to rid this place of a dangerous nuisance."

Mabel bit back a snide remark and Gideon had zoned out a long time ago, examining his fingernails with interest. Coraline had a mixed expression of willpower and nervousness. Norman and Dipper shared an expression of exasperation.

"Shall we get this started then?" Tezzy asked, "What do you need from me?"

"I need you to transfigure her eyes into one of your mirrors." Quetzalcoatl had said it with such nonchalance it took a moment for the news to reach those in the room.

"No." Coraline's face blanched, eyes wild with fear as tears started to prick the corners of her eyes. "It sounds too much like the buttons, you will _NOT_ touch my eyes. Get the hell away from me!"

As she stumbled back, Gideon caught her, righting her, "You alright?"

She wrenched herself from his grip, "I will not have them stolen from me!"

"This is different, I assure you," Tezzy took on an understanding tone, "Visually they will be different, yes, but it is a gift. You may refuse it if you wish. Like any gift, you may return it at any time."

"Usually people prefer you don't return gifts, you know." Coraline rebutted.

"Regardless, this is where we stand. What do you say?" Quetz looked at her with a cool expression, as though he already knew her answer.

"So whenever I want, I can get rid of it?" Coraline asked.

"Of course, but once you revoke the gift, you can't have it back. This is a one-time miracle, okay?" Quetz smiled, teeth as sharp as pikes lining the inside of his mouth.

Coraline didn't bother to look at the others' reactions or ask their opinions, she bit her lip and stared at her shoes, getting a valiant expression she raised her eyes, "Do it. We need all the help we can get."

Mabel was the only one to speak up, grabbing her shoulder, "Wait, are you sure about this? We don't know the kind of mental toll this can take, I highly doubt they know either"- she indicated the two gods- "this could be really dangerous."

"Not unlike what this whole mess has been right? Can't be much more traumatic." Coraline shrugged, she sighed with something akin to boredom and turned back to the gods before her. "Do it."

"Mind calling upon your mirror? I just need a piece of it." Quetzalcoatl asked.

Tezzy transfigured into a jaguar before their eyes, one of his front legs taking on a shape similar to a hand mirror, made of black stone. He reached out the odd limb made of a shining, flat obsidian and Quetz spared no time chipping off a shard of it the size of a matchbox between his teeth. There was quiet looks of confusion among the group but a silence marred by a mixture of fear of speaking out and a respect for the gravity of the situation.

Using the shard, Q used a particularly sharp edge of the jagged piece and cut his own flesh enough for blood to coat the shard. The wound healed instantly but the blood on the stone remained.

"Let the blood drop into each eye," Quetzalcoatl instructed, using his teeth to pass the shard to Greg and then to Coraline.

"That seems really iffy to me," Coraline laughed awkwardly.

"We are gods, Coraline, we do not carry the ailments of humans. Besides, our blood is a superficial side effect of our existence- practically useless compared to what you humans use it for. Go on, unless you've changed your mind?"

Coraline huffed, holding her eye open as she muttered to herself, "Just like eye drops, Coraline. Just pretend you're not putting some dragon's ectoplasm in your eye."

The blood dropped in painlessly, red tears sliding down her cheeks as the eyes cleaned themselves. She blinked a few times and was met by various sounds of shock and amazement from those around her.

Before the change in her eyes could be explained, Quetzalcoatl excused himself with a promise to return when he was needed and Tezcatlipoca with an assurance to be there when Wybie retrieved him at nightfall.

"Keep the mirror fragment on you," Tezzy purred, rattling deep in his feline throat. "It likely won't work otherwise." With that, he changed back into a snake and disappeared out the window.

"Coraline, that was... Wow." Norman felt himself saying, "You look so _different_..."

" _Creepy_ is the word you're looking for, Norman." Gideon chided, "You might want to look in a mirror."

"Creepy how?" Coraline asked, wiping the blood streaks from her cheeks.

"Ever seen Dalí's _Face of War_?" Dipper asked with a weak laugh, poorly attempting a joke.

Coraline sighed, "I'll go look."

The group followed behind her except for Gideon, who took to watching television again, and Greg who was returning the warding back to its original state. As they all clamored in, Mabel tried describing it the best she could to Coraline.

"Seeing things change in front of you is so weird, seeing it in a scary movie is one thing but"- Mabel exhaled sharply- "it was like your pupil was an egg yolk or something, and it just _pop_ , exploded, and it's what your eye looks like now."

Approaching the mirror, Coraline nearly screamed at the sight. She pulled down her lower eyelids to see she was not in fact imagining it, her eyeballs had turned black with the exception of her iris and pupil. In both eyes, which were once beautiful brown, were now a flat and milky white. She gathered water in her hands and cleaned the nearly black blood streaks from her cheeks, then wiping her face with a hand towel.

She muttered something under her breath, followed by a curse, and whispered "I should have stuck with the stupid cards."

"Can you still see alright?" Dipper asked, "No light sensitivity or anything?"

"Not that I can tell," Coraline sighed, pulling at the ends of her hair, and trying to get used to her own face in the mirror. "It's temporary, right? I won't have to look like a ghoul forever... I guess."

"Let's go back to the TV," Norman insisted gently, trying at a smile. "No need to worry 'til we have a reason to."

"I'll get my cards at least and play around with them," Coraline muttered, looking down at her hands. The odd color to her eyes now, in addition to her pale skin, now gave a menacing and spectral appearance. She wondered if Wybie would be as freaked out by it as she was. "Might as well learn how this works, they forgot to leave the manual for magic eyeballs behind."

The group laughed awkwardly then fell astride in front of the television again, Coraline going upstairs to retrieve her cards. Wybie woke with a start at her not-so-subtle entrance into the group's shared bedroom.

"Oh, hey Cor, how's it?" He asked sleepily, the room too dark to get a good look at her new eyes.

She stepped close enough to his face for him to see her eyes, kneeling beside where he laid on top of the bed. His eyes lingered for a moment, his hands still on her cheeks to get a good look. "What happened?"

"The gods granted me the gift of Sight or whatever. Put god-blood in my eyes. Guess it had to be me, 'cuz of the cards and all." Coraline seemed to shrug off the comment, but it clearly bothered her.

"You're in touch with it, so it makes sense," Wybie tried reasoning, voice calm. "How are you feeling? No visions yet, right?"

" 'Course not," she sighed. "I'm guessing it won't have the properties of a lightswitch. Thinking it might trigger being in contact with the cards, maybe I can control it."

"Control it?" Wybie screwed his mouth to the side, "We have days, maybe hours. You don't have time."

"I can try," she insisted, "They said I can give it up when I want to. If it doesn't help, I can revoke it, right?"

"It's quite late for a hail mary, don't you think?" Wybie muttered, the first sign of his optimism breaking down that actually set Coraline on edge.

"I'll let you sleep. See you soon," she muttered, kissing one of his hands and rushing out of the room with her tarot deck.

With each step she took down the stairs she mentally cursed Beldam, then Xolotl, then herself in a cycle that only ended once she sat down with the cards in front of her and shuffled them intently.

She closed her eyes as she shuffled, focusing on the cardstock in her hands and not the intruding and concerned gazes of her friends; Norman, especially, watched her with a growing sense of dread. A Hail Mary was not what this felt like to him, it felt like a Death Knell.


	26. As Above, So Below

As the time passed, the shuffling of cards that had begun as whispering background noise was now an irritating drone. Gideon seemed most bothered, a perturbed expression on his face, and after a while got up and went to the kitchen where he grabbed the book from his small bag to read.

Watching Gideon leave the room, Dipper nudged Norman with his elbow and whispered he would be back. He got up and went to the kitchen, quiet as he walked up to Gideon. Dipper took note of the book with a sense of surprise before joining him at the table.

"I'm surprised you read." Dipper quipped, earning an eye roll from Gideon.

"Yes, I read _literature_. As opposed to what you likely read, _Pines_ \-- UFO magazines and tabloids, no doubt."

"I don't, actually," Dipper scoffed, "though you of all people should believe in that stuff too, with all you've seen."

"I'm still not entirely convinced my entire life is merely a dead man's imagination." Gideon had glassy eyes, staring at the pages dully, as though he was millions of miles away.

"Morbid. But, given the circumstances, I'll give you a pass." Dipper muttered, "How are you doing?"

"What?" Gideon asked, as though he'd hallucinated. Did he detect genuine concern in Dipper's voice?

"How are you? With everything going on?" Dipper asked.

"Fine, I guess." Gideon lied, but his angry expression fell to fear. "No... actually, I'm not fine. Pacifica is dead. Her body-- she... she was right _there_ , the whole time.

"Why didn't I know? Did he possess me to do that too? Could I have prevented that? My head is _swimming_ \-- not to mention all the madness over here with gods mingling around like we're at a dang cocktail party.

"Then, of course, once this all blows over-- if we're all still alive by the end of it-- what will I do? I'm still a minor. No one in this town likes me, I won't get hired by anyone! Believe me, I tried--"

"Gideon," Dipper sighed, choosing his words carefully. "The fact you're guilty about the idea of even being involved is enough. You didn't want her dead. I'm sure you brought her some peace, letting her parents know so they can properly bury her."

"Honestly, I loved my hut, it was the first thing I had that really felt like it was mine..." Gideon whispered, his voice cracking. He pinched his nose with his fingers, exhaling sharply. He did not want to get emotional, not here.

Gideon looked back at Dipper, eyes red as he bit back tears, "But I could never go over there again, not after seeing her there. I hope they tear it down, now. Poor Pass, she thought everything was going well for her. She was getting good enough prospects that she dropped out of school and was ready to make good money starting at someplace out of town, but then she turns up dead. She had a bright future ahead of her, unlike the rest of us stuck in the Falls. She was my only friend--"

"It had nothing to do with you," Dipper insisted. "Plus, minor or not, I am sure someone in town would hire you. They could always put you on an overnight shift, worst case. You get more money that way too. Don't worry about it yet, let's get past this first."

Gideon nodded, more to himself than anything, and thanked Dipper half-heartedly before immersing himself back in the book. Dipper returned to the main area and sat next to Norman, leaning against the boy's side.

Dipper wondered how things had been for Gideon without his folks around-- at least his parents were _around,_ even if they weren't always there for the two of them. Gideon probably quit school as soon as he could, based on his isolation in that cabin and how they left things post-Bill. Maybe the Northwests gave him a paycheck, but he doubted they would treat him like a son-- they rarely gave their own daughter the luxury.

Dipper saw some of himself in Gideon and hated it, he saw a little bit of himself in everyone, but with Gideon, they both shared the specific trauma of possession by Bill Cipher. The clutchings of wisps of ultimate power, to feel invincible, untouchable, and the moral dealings pull at the reigns-- the "right thing" being to relinquish this power, being weak and powerless again just to have back your self-control. His eyes wandered to the front window and stared, where Norman said he had seen Pacifica.

* * *

Suddenly, Coraline visibly went stiff. Mabel's gaze formerly being at what Coraline had been doing with the cards, then her view drifting up to the girl's face. She crawled on the carpeted floor on her knees, putting hands on each side of Coraline's face as she looked into her eyes.

The white irises and pupils, a blip in a sea of the black sclera, seemed to disappear as the black swallowed them whole. It looked as though ink was dyeing her white irises, like smoke or fog peeking behind the black. She looked straight on into nothing, and couldn't see anything around her, her eyes blinked sporadically, despite this.

Mabel's voice shook as she turned to her brother and Norman, "Her eyes look empty. The white's all gone."

The two scrambled over as well, Norman unlatching Mabel's hands from Coraline to get a good look, "Easy. Her eyes just look foggy. They're all one color but her eyelids are twitching, so she's responsive, right? Maybe she's having a vision, we shouldn't interrupt."

Mabel agreed, but foggy wasn't the right word. It was like a dead person's eyes, no shine or life in them, like black gunk on the surface of a pond. She stood and paced, wringing her hands, terrified for her friend.

Norman pretended to be calm, Dipper stayed quiet, and Gideon was oblivious.

* * *

Coraline could see things in flashes, like an old videotape on fast-forward, skipping around very quickly. With only a quiet and ambient hum to listen to, she couldn't seem to make heads or tails of any of it.

_Claws._

_Gashes._

_A hulking mass on four legs._

_Blood in the grass._

_A figure standing in the rain._

_A body face down and unmoving._

_Flashing red lights._

_Blackness so thick it was like swimming in tar._

She gasped for air, the dull and swirling blackness dissipating from her eyes and awareness returning, eyes darting to the three watching her with concern and Gideon, the fourth, _trying_ to look unconcerned as his eyes peered over the edge of his book. Coraline tried to piece together the flashes she saw but they were so fast she couldn't see any faces, let alone tell what time of day it was. She subconsciously felt her eyes wandering to the stairs, wanting to lean on Wybie like she always had, but feared what she saw would really happen if she spoke it aloud.

Dipper's hands, clutching her arms tightened as he tried getting her attention again, "Coraline? Are you okay? What did you see?"

"No idea," Coraline muttered in a daze. "Too quick to see."

"Well, you were out of it a solid five minutes, we were starting to worry." Norman chuckled flatly, then gave Dipper a look, who let go of her arms with a whispered apology.

"I'm okay, thank you." Coraline smiled weakly.

"Any idea where he is?" Mabel barely got it out, too upset to say his name-- Bill's name, Xolotl's name, the name of their impending doom.

Coraline shook her head, still reeling, trying to grasp and reimagine what she had seen in hopes to make sense of it.

"Why don't you go wake Wybie up? He should be taking guard soon." Mabel smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes, hoping that Wybie could assure her in a way they couldn't.

Moreso, though, she hoped Wybie could weasel the memory from Coraline of what she saw. She was growing attached to Coraline, but her fear of what could happen to all of them was teetering towards her biggest priority over her friend's wellbeing. She hated the selfishness of that feeling.

Coraline nodded and left the group, going upstairs. 

* * *

Mabel began chewing on her thumbnail and upon accidentally making eye contact with Gideon, who watched the exchange from the other room, she yanked the thumb away from her teeth and crossed her arms.

"Eyes back on your book, Gleeful, you started this mess." Mabel hissed.

"Now is not the time," Dipper snapped, "The last thing we need is to fall apart right now, we're in the last legs--"

"We're _on_ our last legs!" Mabel yelled at her brother, pointing an accusing finger at Gideon. "This _brat_ is why! How _convenient_ he can't remember where _he_ is!"

"Might I remind you--" Gideon began, defensively, setting his book down.

"Shut _up_ , Gideon!" Mabel snapped, suddenly reminding her twin of a much younger and less mature version of herself. "You should've stayed in jail, maybe then they wouldn't all be--"

"Mabel!" Dipper yelled at the top of his lungs, enough to startle his sister into silence. Her eyes naturally watered at the sound, but she blinked it away.

Dipper's voice lowered in volume, Wirt silently stepping out from his room a few paces away to see what the commotion was. "It's not his fault. He's a victim here, too. Or was the stuff I did back then my fault too?"

"It happened twice," Mabel reminded bitterly with a pointed finger still aimed at Gideon, her narrowed eyes never leaving Gideon, who was shrinking in his seat by the minute.

"We weren't around," Dipper tried, "remember? It could've been me again too. Gideon and I--" Dipper exhaled, closing his eyes as though the following words would physically pain him. "We're a lot alike, you know? We're _stuck_. No friends, dealing with this stuff no one understands, resented-- Mabel, I have you and you're a great sister, but he doesn't have _anyone_ anymore. Back off, okay?"

Gideon looked away, closing the book and laying his cheek on the table, he felt awful enough thinking it-- but hearing someone else say it aloud hurt more. He really _was_ alone, especially now that the Northwests refused to let him in their sight.

Something finally seemed to click in Mabel's expression and she nodded, looking over at Gideon with a defeated expression, "I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

"Don't worry about it, Mabel," Gideon muttered, not meeting her eyes, "I blame myself too."

Mabel barely caught his words but understood nonetheless. Wirt cleared his throat and with a weary expression, proclaimed he was making homemade soup for everyone and insisted the group of them all help somehow.

* * *

There was no void felt for Coraline, who was closed up in the upstairs bathroom. She sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest and head against the wall as she closed her eyes and tried to piece it all together. 

  
She didn't want to wake Wybie again and took out her cards to see if she could inspire another vision. She held the stacked deck to her forehead as though hoping to see with a third eye or X-ray vision. She pulled breaths in and let them out in calculated intervals, trying to empty her thoughts.

* * *

Wirt pulled ingredients from the fridge handfuls at a time, setting the many vegetables and ingredients on the counter in droves. When Norman went to reach for a cucumber, Wirt slapped his hand and admonished "Wash your hands first. All of you. You too, Gideon, you're part of the club too, now. Boys, go get Greg too, he would get mad if we started without him. "

Dipper and Norman split off to wash their hands in the bathroom while Mabel debated whether or not to share the kitchen sink with Gideon or simply wait until Norman and her brother left the bathroom. The decision was made for her when Wirt gave her a pointed look and a frown.

She walked slowly as she could manage to eventually stand beside Gideon as he made a show of washing his hands. The water was uncomfortably hot and he was adamantly cleaning between his fingers, under his nails, special care to the back of his hands as well as his palms. When he noticed Mabel beside him he stepped back with an embarrassed expression, wiping his hands on a dishtowel nearby.

"Sorry, a habit from my job. Always took forever to clean up after working in the dirt." Gideon explained, handing the drying rag to her as she finished up.

She took it and watched her hands as she dried them, "You sure apologize a lot more than you used to."

"Working for people like the Northwests," he said with a hint of fondness, rinsing off some of the vegetables. "It has a way of reminding you of your manners."

"How were they?" Mabel asked, generally curious, as she began taking the vegetables from his hands to set on the cutting board beside her.

"Strict," Gideon answered quickly, then thought about it before continuing. "My mom, I don't know if you remember much of her, she was such a submissive person that anything my dad decided... she would just grin and bear it. Until she left, anyway. 

"My dad's, well, obviously not around anymore. The Northwests were troubled... but extraordinary." Gideon let slip an admirable smile, "They took me in, after everything that happened. They showed up at my door, when I was about to be escorted by the sheriffs to wherever I would go next, all they said was--

"Mr. Northwest said 'Can you work?', I said yes.

"Mrs. Northwest looked around and just stated, 'Think you can do things on your own, live alone, if we paid you?'-- they didn't want another child, they didn't adopt me, obviously. They just wanted cheap labor, but they kept that roof over my head and they would take turns asking if I was eating, or if I needed anything. They were good to me."

Before Mabel could comment, the three boys walked in and crammed aside them. The six of them were designated jobs around the kitchen to make dinner-- ranging anywhere from chopping to peeling to measuring ingredients. Wirt insisted, as he assigned them each task, it would make the process take a fraction of the time.

"Are we feeding an army?" Norman joked, pulling kale apart for cutting.

"Practically," Wirt smiled, "Full house with all of you around. We have, what, eight of us now? Assuming you don't bring any other mouths to feed home with you, eh, Norman?"

Norman blushed to himself but chuckled nonetheless, "Sorry about that. Imposing and all."

"It's nice," Greg beamed, "You guys are much more fun than strangers, they ignore us."

"A side-effect of the changing times," Wirt shrugged, measuring out spices by sight. "Even at a bed and breakfast, they don't want the hosts to be seen or heard."

"Bummer," Dipper piped up, "Have you tried doing the Air BnB thing? Like, getting on there?"

"You would probably have more customers, and you can set cost limits." Mabel supplied.

"I can barely keep up as is," Wirt admitted, "Summer is a mess of lodgers but the rest of the time it's pretty slow. I'll look into it, maybe Greg can show me."

"We've got a secret boomer on our hands," Norman whispered conspiratorially to Dipper, who feigned a sneeze to cover a laugh.

"Greg, can you set the dining room up?" Wirt asked, humming to himself.

"You have a dining room?" Mabel asked, confused. "Then why have we been eating at the kitchen table this whole time?"

"It's easier," Greg supplied, loading his arms up with dishes to carry in the other room. "Less mess, was cramped before, but too many people now."

"I finished," Norman smiled, taking the teetering pile of plates from his younger cousin's arms, who replaced it with an easier-to-manage bunch of silverware. "I'll help you out. You can tell me where all the silverware goes."

The two left the kitchen to a corridor off the back of the living room, going to the dining room. 

* * *

Mabel, dicing her tomatoes, got slightly too overzealous and gave herself a small cut on her finger. She cursed under her breath and excused herself to the bathroom, Dipper nearly leaped to follow, but Gideon soon followed with the assurance he would make sure she treated the wound properly.

So, Dipper and Wirt were the only ones who remained in the kitchen. Dipper watched Wirt with interest, his thoughts turning to Wendy again, what did they see in each other? The two seemed so different.

"Wirt?" Dipper nearly choked on the word, the conversation starter spilling from his own lips before he was even really ready.

"Hmm?" Wirt took a piece of taffy from his pocket and chewed it as he moved on to cutting an onion, a trick to keep his eyes from watering.

"So, how long have you and Wendy been... together?" Dipper had meant to sound nonchalant but came off as what he feared-- prying.

"On and off for about 2 years. I guess you heard our conversation earlier." Wirt seemed unbothered by the question, a smile creeping on his face. "It's sweet you still care about her. She told me you used to have a thing for her."

"Yeah," Dipper admitted, floundering. "She's talked about me?"

"Of course she has." Wirt supplied, adding the different parts of everyone's cooking contributions together. "You two mean a lot to her. You're like her second set of siblings."

"Oh man, if I heard that back then, that would have been a deep wound." Dipper joked, "She was one of my first real crushes, you know? I turned so stupid anytime she was around, like I lost half my brain cells."

"Hopefully you've outgrown that quality," Wirt chuckled. "I haven't. Even now, I still can't help but act like an idiot around her."

"What do you like about her?" Dipper asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What's it like to really know her?"

"She's an open book," Wirt sighed contentedly, putting the soup on the stove. He leaned against the counter, looking over at Dipper. "She doesn't hide much of herself. It's the little things, though, that made me fall in love with her."

"Like what?" Dipper asked, smiling.

"Well..." Wirt inhaled and closed his eyes in thought, "She can never seem to remember the right words to songs but sings at the top of her lungs anyway. She hates cooking, she would do takeout every night if she could, but she appreciates my cooking enough not to. She wants to do a cross-country van trip one day, but she refuses to see anything she considers a tourist trap-- which I argue is half the fun.

"She's easy to buy things for, and when we go shopping it never takes more than an hour, no matter what, she knows what she wants and doesn't want to linger. She has really good self-control, but mostly because she's just a little too lazy to adhere to her own whims. She hates the freckles on her shoulders and the backs of her hands, even though they're beautiful.

"She hates commitment unless she's thought of every possible outcome first, good or bad. She hates black and white movies but watches them with me because she knows I enjoy them. More than anything, I like how she snorts if you catch her off-guard with something that makes her laugh."

Dipper took this all in and absorbed it, seeing the look of adoration in Wirt's expression as he took his time to list, he hated himself for ever doubting him. He didn't bother to joke a threat, should he hurt Wendy. He could tell it would never be an issue. He was reassured, and for a moment, his mind quieted.

* * *

In a cramped bathroom on the first floor, there stood Gideon, a box of band-aids and a distant expression as he tilted some peroxide on a cotton ball. He held out his hand for a moment before rolling his eyes and wrenching Mabel's hand forward to clean the cut. He seemed mad, a different mood than he had given just a while earlier when he volunteered to help. 

Mabel _knew_ he was faking it for the others, and felt vindicated in this.

"You can be so stupid sometimes," Gideon chided, "You don't hold the knife that way when you're cutting something, it's _asking_ for an injury."

"That's the Gideon I know," Mabel scoffed, "condescending and holier-than-thou. Where ya been?"

"As a matter of fact, I don't enjoy acting this way, Mabel. I try to be kind, I try to keep myself calm, I want to be better--" Gideon pressed the cotton ball hard into her finger with one hand while grabbing an unwrapped band-aid with the other. " _You_ just can't get over it. I have changed, or at least I'm trying to, but _you_ haven't changed at all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mabel hissed in pain, Gideon removing the bloodied cotton ball to apply the bandage.

"You think of yourself and you squeeze others in when it's convenient, you're set in your thoughts and ways, anyone who infringes upon what you think you're entitled to and you become a helpless, angry victim," Gideon said with malice, but applied the bandage carefully and squeezing the finger tight in his fist.

"What are you doing?" Mabel asked, ignoring his snide comments to her.

"You have to warm the adhesive or it won't stick," Gideon muttered, sighing shortly.

"I won't forgive you," Mabel twisted her mouth in disgust.

"Sure, Mabel, expected nothing less," Gideon muttered, letting go of her finger so it dropped to her side. 

"Where's Bill hiding?" Mabel looked over her nose at him, chin high as she felt a hint of irritation as she saw the shock in his face.

"I don't know, don't you think I would've mentioned as much by now?" Gideon snapped, making to pass her but she stepped in front of him.

"That's the thing, I'm not so sure you would. What if Bill still has you under his control?"

"Do you have a carrot in your ear, Mabel? That turkey-god-thing cut my ties from him, how could he?"

"Stranger things have happened in the Falls," Mabel muttered.

"I wasn't conscious when he did all that, even if he did use my..." the thought sickened Gideon so he swallowed thickly and continued, "He would've had to have been that dog thing to do that kind of damage. He didn't want me to know anything, I'm sure he knew the two of you would get involved, eventually. You two never can seem to leave _well enough alone_."

"So what, we just give up? Let this Bill-Xolotl-god-guy bring everything to ruin? It was all just so _well and good_ the first time he tried!"

"Oh come off it," Gideon groaned, "I'm going back to help."

"Prove it, and I might forgive you," Mabel tilted her head, eyes sharp. "If you really have nothing to hide, you'll let me do what it takes to find out, won't you?"

Gideon scratched his cheek with his nails, at a loss, Mabel definitely looked serious. Moreso, he could see a hint of something else in her expression, it looked like resolve. He drug his palms down his face and quietly agreed with the exception that they would at least eat first before she did whatever harebrained scheme was up her sleeve.

Mabel reluctantly agreed.

* * *

Following instruction, Mabel went upstairs to retrieve both Coraline and Wybie for dinner and found the two of them sitting quietly side-by-side, holding hands. The air between them felt stale. The two followed behind her down the stairs and tried their best to engage with the others. They wouldn't let go of the other's hand.

With the table set, the soup nearly done, everyone but Wirt (who remained stirring in the kitchen) loitered around the dining room mentally choosing a seat as they talked amongst themselves. Gideon was actually holding a fairly intense conversation with Greg about his life before living in the woods and answering the younger one's questions. Dipper noticed this with a hint of surprise and expressed this to Norman.

Norman merely shrugged with a noncommittal air, "Greg gets along with everyone, it's just how he is."

Dipper kept the thought to himself but privately assumed while this may typically be the case, Greg had an odd look in his eyes. As though he was wondering how much of what Gideon said was true. From what he overheard it sounded right, even if only getting one side of the story.

However, soon enough, the soup is brought in and everyone takes their seats at the table: Mabel at the head of the table by the window, followed by Dipper, Norman, Wirt, Greg, Wybie, Coraline, and Gideon, sitting at Mabel's right at the rectangular table. The conversation was minimal as the heaviness began to settle among the group.

* * *

After a while, Greg began humming a song to himself as he ate, muttering a comment about the lack of talking the past few days being annoying. His optimism had overall not been dampened by the years, but his preteen preoccupation of a constant fight with boredom was slowly approaching. Greg watched Mabel's thoughtful expression as she swished her soup around with a spoon and wondered about the precise source of her daze.

For the past few days, he had been idly switching between eavesdropping on the happenings going on with the Beast/Xolotl/Bill (that Wirt was trying to hide from him, albeit poorly) and reading a series of sci-fi books he'd found interest in recently.

Greg was the first to notice Gideon's quiet leaving the table, soup only half-finished. Greg's eyes went to Mabel who followed soon after, a thoughtful look on her face. He spooned another bite of soup in this mouth, not even sensing any foreboding until Coraline stood so quickly from the table that her chair clattered to the floor and she ran from the dining room.

The others all followed, even Wirt eventually, giving Greg a reassuring pat on the head and an insistence to finish his food as he followed the others.

So Greg sat, alone and thoughtful, muffled yelling from the other room indistinguishable as he continued eating his soup.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if formatting is odd at times, reloading a backlog of stuff written over a long period of time from my other account so there may be format/style changes here and there!


End file.
